G.  frank  Lydsfon 


A^> 


AN   EVENING  OVER   THE   HOOKAH. 


THE 


TALES  OF  A  TALKATIVE  DOCTOR 


G.  FRANK   LYDSTON,  M.   D. 


Fellow  of  the  Chicago  Academy  of  Medicine,  the  Southern  Surgical  and  Gynaeco- 
logical Association,  and  the  American  Academy  of  Social  and  Political  Science, 
Professor  of  Criminal  Anthropology  in  the  Kent  College  of  Law,  Member 
of  the  American   Medical  Association   and   the  Association   of 
Military  Surgeons  of  the  United  States,  Honorary  Fellow 
of  the  Texas  Medical  Association,  etc. 


Illustrated  from  the  author's  designs  by  Mr.  C.  Everett  Johnson. 


CHICAGO: 
FRED.  KLEIN  COMPANY, 

1896. 


COPYRIGHT,  18%, 

BY 

G.  FRANK  LYDSTON,  M.   D. 
CHICAGO. 


TO 

THE  FELLOWS 

OF 

THE  CHICAGO  ACADEMY  OF  MEDICINE, 

AS 

A  TOKEN  OF  WARM  REGARD, 

AND 

IN    EVIDENCE    OF    HIS    APPRECIATION    OF    THE    COMMINGLED    SPIRIT    OF 

SCIENTIFIC    ENTHUSIASM    AND   HEARTY   GOOD-FELLOWSHIP 

WHICH   HAS   EVER    BEEN    THE   DOMINATING 

CHARACTERISTIC    OF   THE 

ACADEMY. 

THIS   VOLUME 

IS   RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED   BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


H !   hookah  of  the  magic  bowl, 
Thou  dost  bring  me  greatest  pleasure, 
Who  likes  not  thee,  hath  not  a  soul 
And  can  know  of  joy  no  measure, 


Thy  fragrance  brings  me  visions  bright — 
Dispels  the  shadows  of  the  night, 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS, 


PAGE. 

APROPOS  OF  SEVERAL  SUBJECTS,  -  25 

SEEING  THINGS,  59 

SEVERAL  KINDS  OF  DOCTORS,  -  87 

THE  DOCTOR  EMULATES  SANDOW,  -  117 
LARRY'S  CONTRIBUTIONS  TO  "FISHOLOGY,"  AND  THE 

HISTORY  OF  IRELAND,  -  143 
How  A  VERSATILE  YOUNG  DOCTOR  REPORTED  A 

SOCIETY  EVENT,  -  165 

THE  RHODOMONTADE  OF  A  SOCIABLE  SKULL  (I),  -  195 

THE  RHODOMONTADE  OF  A  SOCIABLE  SKULL  (II),  -  235 

A  MARTYR  TO  His  PASSIONS,  -  283 

OLD  ABE  AS  A  MUSICAL  CRITIC,  327 

POKER  JIM — GENTLEMAN  (I),  -  359 

POKER  JIM — GENTLEMAN  (II),  393 

THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER  (I),  -  -  443 

THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER  (II),  -  481 

THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER  (III),  -  -  505 

THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER  (IV),  535 

THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER  (V),  -  -  581 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 
X 

PAGE 

AN  EVENING  OVER  THE  HOOKAH,  (FRONTISPIECE.) 

THE  BONE  AND  SINEW  OF  THE  PROFESSION.                    -  24 

THE  PRIME  OF  LIFE,     -                 -  30 

EVE  UP  TO  DATE,     -                 -                                           -  35 

"My  DOCTOR"  MAKES  A  CALL,  -----  41 

OUT  OF  THE  SHADOWS  OF  THE  PAST,  44 

A  BOUQUET  OF  FAIR  ONES,                                             -  46 

EVER  AND  ANON  MY  FAIRY  PLAYS  THE  AMAZON,  -  49 

"HAVEN'T  GOT  IT  ON  YOUR  BELLY,  HAVE  YOU,  SKAGGS?"  52 

SUCCESS,      -                                         -----  58 

"Ds  LAS'  o'  DE  MINT,"  62 

A  DANGEROUS  BOTANICAL  STUDY,     -                                 -  64 

THE  STREAM  OF  LIFE,                                             -  67 

A  STUDENT'S  MANTEL,      -                                                   -  70 

A  SUGGESTION  FOR  A  SORROWING  WIDOW,  -  73 

THAT  ZEBRA,      -  77 

WHEN  PHARISEE  MEETS  PHARISEE,  THEN  COMES — DEATH,  86 

AN  ATTIC  PHILOSOPHER,    -                                                    -  91 

"SWALLYIN'    HIS   CUD,"  92 

DOCKWEED  IN  PROFOUND  REFLECTION,                              -  96 

THE  STORMY  PATH  OF  DUTY,      -  98 
THE  LITTLE  CHILDREN  SEEMED  TO  REACH  OUT  THEIR 

TINY,  EAGER  HANDS  TO  CALL  THE  OLD  MAN  BACK,  100 

A  MISFIT,   -                                                                              -  102 

A  TENDER  MEMORY,      -                                                   -  104 

To  THE  RESCUE,                                                                     -  108 

"QUITE  TRILBYESQUE,  EH?"  116 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.—  CONTINUED. 

PAGE 

THE  LIMIT  OF  A  DOCTOR'S  ASSURANCE,  -  -        -    123 


WANT  TER  TAKE  ER  PERSITION  JEST  LIKE  Dis; 

SAVVY?"  -  -  129 

"!T  HAS  PROBABLY  SETTLED  IN  YOUR  NECK,"  -  132 

"THIS  DO  BE  AlSIER  WORRUK  NOR  FlSHIN',"  -  -  142 

"BE  JABBERS  OI'M  THINKIN'  THERE'S  A  HOOK  IN  THAT 

FELLER'S  BELLY!"  -  -  149 

"WAN,  TWO,  THREE  —  KIN  YEZ  COUNT  AT  ALL  AT  ALL?"  156 
"  GIANTS  DO  BE  AFTHER  TAKIN'  A  HULL  TUB  FULL  o' 

WATHER  TO  BAPTOISE  THIM,"  -  158 

IN  THE  NAME  OF  THE  STATE  OF  INDIANA,  -  -  164 

A  BRIGHT  FUTURE,  170 

"Is  THE  CESTUS  EVER  USED  NOWADAYS?"  -  -  174 

UPHOLDING  THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  COMMONWEALTH,  -  178 

COUNTING  THE  TIES  WITH  THE  "  FITZY  PUSH,"  -  -  183 
"HE  DONE  RETCH  ROUN'  AN'  BITE  ME  WID  EBERY 

FOOT  HE  HAB!"  -  185 

"AiNT  MOIKE  A  DAISY?"  -  189 

"AHEM!  GOOD  EVENING,  DOCTOR,"  -  -  194 

"WE  ARE  WITH  You  IN  SPIRIT,"  ,-  -  196 

AN  "EXPERT"  IN  DEGENERACY,  ....  200 

SOME  OF  "THEM  TALKIN'  HEADS,"  -  205 

"Tms  is  NOT  FOR  PUBLICATION,"  -----  218 

SOME  OF  SKULLY'S  WORKS,  -  -  223 

OF  THE  FAKEE  BLOOD  ROYAL,  ....  227 

WORKING  A  SOAP  MINE,  ....  234 

"WHERE  is  MY  WANDERING  BOY  To-NiGHT?"  -  -  239 

A  GONDOLA  OF  THE  AIR,  -----  254 

A  FAKIR  OF  THE  OLDEN  TIME,  -----  258 

YE  MODERN  FAKIR,  -  -  259 

AN  ALIENATOR  OF  THE  AFFECTIONS,  -  -  264 

THEREBY  HANGS  —  A  TURTLE,  -  270 

"No  PATIENT  so  TREATED  EVER  DIED  OF  CANCER,"  -  273 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.— CONTINUED. 

PAGE 

"PARDON  ME  FOR  INTERRUPTING  YOUR  INTELLECTUAL 

RECREATION,"      -  -    282 

"I  BURIED  THE  BLADE  IN  THE  BULLY'S  SIDE,"  -  301 

A  REVEL  OF  THE  SOUL,    -  -    309 

A  DREAM  OF  BLISS,  315 

"ABR'HAM,  BAR'S  OUAH  GOOD  ANGEL,"  -  -    326 

"AIN'T  YO  'SHAMED  ER  YO'SEF  MARSE  K'NARY?  "      -  332 

ONE  OF  "DEM  WILE  NIGGAHS,"       -  -    334 

"DOAN'  YO'  WISH  YO'  Wuz  UP  HYAH?"    -  337 

"I'D  JES'  LIKE  TER  KNOW  WHUT  HE  is,  SAH,  .       -  -    339 

"WHAR  DE  MOCKIN'  BIRD  SUNG  ME  TER  REST,"       -  343 

"Go  TER  SLEEP,  OH  MAMMY'S  LITTLE  BRACK  LAM,"  -    346 

"I  SEED  ER  LITTLE  HOUSE  I  USE  TER  KNOW,"  349 

PLUCKING  A  PIGEON,  -    358 

"JiM  HAD  ALWAYS  BEEN  A  WILD  LAD,"  368 

"THE  BODY  FELL  FORWARD  UPON  ITS  FACE,"  -    373 

THE  MAJESTIC  INDIAMAN,      -  377 

"DON'T  BE  FRIGHTENED,  MY  LAD,"  -    383 

"POKER  JIM  Wuz  ER  GENTLEMAN,"     -  392 

"HE  OFTEN  BURNS  THE  MIDNIGHT  LAMP,"     -  -    396 

FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR,       -  402 

A  NIGHT  ON  THE  SAN  JOAQUIN,       -  -    404 

"KINDER  CARVIN'  ME  UP  ON  TH'  INSTALLMENT  PLAN,"  419 

"THE  DOOR  OPENED,  AND  THERE  STOOD  POKER  JIM,"  -    426 

A  MODERN  BAYARD,       -  434 

"MAY  I  INQUIAH  WHERE  THAT  D — D  GRP:ASAH  is?"  -    442 

A  TASK  FOR  THE  MEMORY,  447 

WHERE  "THE  CHILDREN  OF  ISHMAEL"  ARE  BRED,  -    450 

"Tnou  HADST  FORGOTTEN  OUR  BODIES,"  -  453 

A  PRIMITIVE  OFFICE,  -    455 

"A  Miss  is  AS  GOOD  AS  A  MILE,"  458 

"ER  Mos'  ONPROMISIN'  LOOKIN'  FIND  HE  wuz,"    -  -    464 

A  BOLD  CAPTURE,  471 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS -CONTINUED. 

PAGE 

AN  IDEAL  MINING  SITE,     -  -    473 

"A  PUFFEC'  DARE-DEVIL,  SUH,"  480 
"HE  ALONE,    KNOWS   WHERE   THE    FAIRIES   KEEP 

BABIES  FOR  SALE,"  486 
"THE  OLD  MAN  DID  HAVE  'EM,"  -  -  490 
BULL-FIGHTING  A  LA  MODE,  504 
"Fo'  A  MOMENT,  I  WAS  IN  A  VERY  PER'LOUS  POSI- 
TION, Suns,"  -  509 
FROM  ANDALUSIA,  -  513 
"OuAH  COUNTRY  EXPEC'S  EV'RY  MAN  TO  Do  His  DUTY,"  516 
GOING  TO  REHEARSAL,  -  -  521 
THE  MAJOR  ORDERS  A  RETREAT  534 
PRESTIDIGITATION  EXTRAORDINARY,  -  -  542 
THEY  WOULD  NOT  DISAPPEAR,  -  543 
A  DECIDED  IMPRESSION,  -  -  547 
"BiG  INJUN,  HEAP  BIG  SNAKE,"  -  548 
THE  INSULT,  -  -  561 
DUTCH  BILL'S  IDEAS  OF  AGRICULTURK  -  571 
A  NEW  BREED  OF  TENDERFOOT,  -  -  580 
"RECKON  SHE'S  FOUND  OUT  WHAR  Y'U  AIR,"  -  591 
"SAY,  Doc,  AINT  HE  A  CORKER?"  -  -  602 
"HE  WOULD  NEVER  FIGHT  AGAIN,"  -  610 


PREFACE, 


dust   and   rust  of    three 
centuries,  and  the  weight 
of  tons  on  tons  of  cobwebs 
of    obscurity,    lie    upon    the 
mouldering-    bones   of    a    quaint, 
satirical  old  commentator  who  wrote — 

It  hath  beene  ye  custome  of  many  men,  to  make 
5Te  introductions  to  their  bookes  like  ye  gates  of  some 
Grecian  cities,  soe  ample  that  (as  ye  proverbe  ran) 
ye  citie  was  like  to  steale  thorow  ye  same. 

Had  I  but  a  tithe  of  his  moss-grown  wisdom, 
I  would  scarce  have  courage  enow  to  write  any 
introduction  or  preface  whatever — perhaps  not 
even  enough  to  publish  the  book.  But  authors 
are  not  expected  to  profit  by  the  experiences  and  errors  of 
past  generations  of  victims  of  scribbler's  itch.  If  they  did, 
what  would  become  of  our  literary  reviewers  and  critics? 
—they  must  live,  and  I,  for  one,  am  ready,  aye,  eager,  to 
sacrifice  myself  at  the  altar  of  their  prosperity.  And  the 
dear  public! — it  must  be  entertained. 

And  now,  gentle  reader,  have  I  not  fairly  proven  my 
philanthropy?  And  you  will  not  mind  what  my  critics  say, 
will  you? — that  is,  unless  they  say  sweet  things  of  me  and — 
you  know,  this  book? 

Every  man  who  writes  a  book  should  expect  criticism; 
I  expect  to  receive  more  than  my  share.  Thus  will  I  be 
revenged!  My  captious  critics  will  feel  bad  when  they  see 


xvi  PREFACE. 

I  am  getting  more  than  my  share  of  anything-  in  litera- 
ture;  and  if  there  is  anything-  more  essential  to  literature 
than  criticism,  and  plenty  of  it,  I  don't  know  what  it  is — 
unless  it  be  ink.  So  wade  in,  mes  amis,  and  spare  not  the  lash! 
I  can't  laug-h  at  my  own  work,  even  the  funny  parts;  a  parent 
never  sees  anything  ridiculous  in  his  own  offspring — which 
is  why  humorists  are  so  grave — but  I  promise  you  that  the 
wrhip  and  spur  of  the  critic  will  "tickle  me  'most  to  death." 
And  if  he  should  say  pleasant  things — why,  the  hookah  shall 
be  loaded  with  myrrh  and  frankincense,  and  there  shall  be 
joy  in  the  fullness  thereof  in  mine  household! 

A  doctor  oug-ht  never  to  write  such  a  book,  eh?  You 
are  wasting  breath,  my  kind  friend.  That's  just  why  I 
wrote  it!  I  have  plenty  of  excellent  company;  I  know  a  num- 
ber of  g-ood  Christians  who  confess  several  times  daily  that 
they  have  done  those  thing's  they  oug-ht  not  to  have  done  and 
left  undone  those  thing's  they  ought  to  have  done — and  then 
their  dig-estions  work  right  merrily,  while  Morpheus  treats 
them  passing  well. 

Now,  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  presentation  of  the  thing's 
/  oug-ht  not  to  have  done,  may  be  quite  as  beneficial  to  my 
digestion  as  would  the  confession  of  them.  As  for  the  things 
I  have  left  undone — come,  mine  excellent  critic,  send  me  a  list 
of  them,  and  you'll  find  them  "done  right  brown"  in  the  next 
edition!  Pray,  look  out,  sir,  lest  you  get  some  of  the  hot 
gravy  on  your  own  intellectual  fingers! 

Observe,  I  say  "intellectual  fingers,"  advisedly,  for  I 
shall  consider  your  unfavorable  criticism  a  purely  mechanical 
matter — not  written  with  malice  prepense.  You  will  look  at 
the  title  page  and  grunt  once;  glance  at  the  author's  name 
and  grunt  twice;  you  will  look  at  the  pictures,  read  the  chap- 
ter-headings, crystallize  a  sneer,  and  will  then  be  ready  for 
business.  If  you  understand  your  business,  you  will  pos- 
sibly note  the  style  and  color  of  binding  and  quality  of  paper. 
You  will  now  spread  out  a  sheet  of  clean,  white  foolscap,  dip 
your  pen  in  ferrated  tincture  of  gall — unless  you  spatter 
with  a  fountain  already  loaded — put  your  pen  to  the  paper 
and — go  away  and  leave  it!  Did  you  ever  try  digitalis  for 
heart  failure?  Try  it,  sir,  it's  great! 


PREFACE.  xvn 

Complimentary  criticism  will,  on  the  other  hand,  be 
regarded  as  the  product  of  deep  thought,  and  brainy,  philo- 
sophical reflection  inspired  by  a  logical  and  judicial  mind. 

As  for  the  doctors,  who  are  not  professional  critics — and 
it  is  largely  for  them  that  the  book  has  been  written — I  trust 
they  may  get  enough  entertainment  from  these  pages  to 
repay  them  for  the  time  and  trouble  of  reading  them.  The 
average  doctor  is  a  thoroughly  good  fellow,  whether  he  knows 
it  or  not,  and  such  social  enjoyment  as  I  have  had  in  life  I 
have  had  in  his  company.  The  black-cravatted,  solemn- 
visaged  idea  of  the  doctor  is  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  merri- 
ment is  fast  displacing  calomel  as  a  remedy  for  the  liver. 
Should  my  work  fail  to  please,  the  good  fellows  of  the  profes- 
sion must  take  the  blame — the  book  has  been  published  at 
the  solicitation  of  a  number  of  them  whom  I  am  proud  to 
claim  as  friends. 

Most  of  the  short  stories  embraced  in  the  old  doctor's 
talks  with  his  student  friend,  are  entirely  original  and  founded 
on  real  incidents;  Some  few  have  been  borrowed,  in  skeleton 
outline — I  don't  know  where — but  I  herewith  heartily  thank  all 
the  good  fellows,  all  the  world  over,  who,  even  by  indirect 
suggestion,  have  furnished  any  of  the  old  wine  I  may  have 
put  in  new  and  more  pretentious  bottles.  Should  Noah  rise 
from  the  grave  and  shake  his  bony  fingers  at  me,  I  might 
feel  somewhat  sensitive,  but  I  most  emphatically  announce 
that  accusations  of  plagiarism  from  any  less  distinguished 
and  musty  source,  will  not  receive  the  slightest  attention.  I 
hereby  repudiate  dear  old  Boccaccio  and  good  Queen  Margot, 
in  toto,  while  as  for  Master  Rabelais — why,  I  almost  forgot 
him. 

Doctor  Wey mouth's  character  sketches  are  taken  from 
life,  and  should  any  of  them  appear  overdrawn,  the  char- 
acters themselves  should  be  held  responsible — they  were  born 
that  way. 

The  title  of  the  book  is  suggestive  of  nothing,  if  not  of 
repose  and  good-fellowship.  The  oriental  "  hookah  "  has  a 
pleasant,  restful,  social  air  about  it  that  no  other  smoke-pro- 
ducing, nicotine-distilling  apparatus  appears  to  possess. 
Through  it,  the  tobacco  habit  seems  a  blessing,  and  one  of 


xvrii  PREFACE. 

our  luxurious  weaknesses  assumes  an  air  of  fragrant  virtue. 
Barrie's  "Lady  Nicotine"  could  not  ask  a  fairer  shrine— 
with  such  a  shrine  her  fair  ladyship  might  well  win  a 
monopoly  as  the  tutelary  goddess  of  happiness.  There  is 
such  a  flavor  of  double-distilled  comfort  and  perfumed  luxury 
about  the  hookah,  that  I  wonder  those  cross-legged  Turks 
ever  get  their  leg's  untangled.  I  wouldn't  care  to  straighten 
them  out  at  all,  were  I  a  Turk!  Of  course,  as  a  physician,  I 
do  not  indorse  the  tobacco  habit,  but,  entrc  nous,  as  good  fel- 
lows mind  you — 

When  friends  are  false,  who  once  were  true, 
When  devils  black  and  devils  blue — 
Or  demons  fierce  whate'er  their  hue — 
Disturb  my  comfort  or  annoy  my  mind, 
In  nicotine  relief  I  find. 

And  there  is  yet  other  testimony. 

But  I  believe  my  old  doctor's  hookah  must  be  pos- 
sessed of  an  evil  spirit — a  spirit  of  loquaciousness.  Your 
Turk  is  all  gravity  ;  his  hookah  behaves  itself — not  so  our 
doctor's  hookah.  It  must  be  the  hookah,  or  might  it  be, 
after  all,  the  punch?  His  wife  made  it,  and  that  lends  color 
to  the  suspicion  that  his  talkativeness  is  due  to  an  infusion  of 
womanly  spirit  which,  in  some  occult  manner,  has  pervaded 
the  divine  concoction.  Stranger  things  have  happened — es- 
pecially to  doctors. 

Well!  well!  here  I  am,  gossipping  about  things  that  do 
not  concern  me.  My  business  is  merely  to  relate  the  conver- 
sations that  took  place  between  the  old  doctor  and  his  student 
friend,  just  as  they  occurred.  Let  them  be  judged  fairly 
and  without  prejudice — based  on  either  hookah  or  punch. 

For  our  purpose  the  dramatis personae  were  the  doctor, 
the  student,  and  the  hookah.  The  punch  was  an  under-study, 
and  dusky  Pete  the  property  man — they  could  hardly  pose 
as  stars.  As  for  myself,  I  am  but  a  chronicler  of  the  doctor's 
gossipy  talks.  Be  they  wise  or  otherwise,  merry  or  sad,  jest 
or  earnest,  satirical  or  philosophical,  the  old  doctor  must  him- 
self shoulder  all  responsibility.  To  be  sure,  the  responsi- 
bility is  very  light  in  the  more  humorous  portions  of  his  con- 
versation, but  he  has  been  quite  serious,  here  and  there. 


PREFACE.  xix 

From  what  I  know  of  him,  however,  I  am  quite  sure  that  he 
is  ready  to  stand  by  his  opinions. 

It  is  barely  possible  that  my  old  doctor  was  more  than 
half  in  earnest  in  some  of  his  fun.  There  seems  to  me  to 
be,  now  and  again,  a  sort  of  head-hitting1  tone  to  his  remarks, 
even  when  he  jests.  He  affects  not  to  be  satirical,  but — 
well,  if  he  be,  and  heads  are  hit,  the  owners  of  the  heads 
mustn't  mind.  It's  the  doctor's  way.  He's  a  funny  old 
man  and  doesn't  like  shams;  besides,  he  always  did  "  speak 
right  out  in  meeting1." 

While  Doctor  Weymouth  has  aimed  directly  at  the 
medical  profession,  there  is  a  possibility  that  that  gallant  old 
war  horse,  "General  Public,"  who  has  won  and  lost  so  many 
battles  for  ambitious  authors,  may  come  in  contact  with  this 
volume.  Being-  highly  ethical,  I  dare  not  do  more  than  enter- 
tain a  sly,  lurking-  hope  that  the  general  and  the  book  may 
meet  and  form  a  speaking  acquaintance.  I  want  his  sym- 
pathy, and — well,  his  dollars  will  go  a  long  way  toward  im- 
proving my  credit  with  the  publisher.  Oh,  what  a  greedy 
maw  that  fellow  has  got,  to  be  sure! — and  how  I  do  want  to  get 
a  whack  at  the  crumbs! 

Of  course,  I'm  like  all  authors,  I  write  for  the  love  of 
humanity;  but  in  talking  it  over  with  you,  my  dear  reader,  I 
am — well,  I'm  pretty  honest.  Don't  you  think  so,  really? 

To  be  quite  serious,  I  have  attempted  to  discuss  only  such 
medical  subjects,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  may  be  useful  to 
the  lay  reader,  and  which,  by  making  him  a  more  intelligent 
patient,  will  be  helpful  to  his  physician — should  he  ever  need 
one. 

I  may  not  have  accomplished  all  I  have  tried  to  do,  but 
trust  that  I  have  not  made  the  slight  knowledge  of  medicine 
possessed  by  the  average  lay  mind,  "confusion  worse  con- 
founded." 

THE  AUTHOR. 
Chicago,  September  ist,  1896. 


APROPOS  OF  SEVERAL  SUBJECTS, 


ICOTIANA,    goddess    of    my 

dreams, 
Do  thou  assume  thy  heavenly 

throne— 
Oh,  guide  me  gently  by  the  peaceful 

streams 
And  through  fair  fields  which  thou 

alone 
Dost  know,  O  sovereign  queen  of 

mine, 
And  make  my  musings  fair — divine, 


THE  BONE  AND  SINEW   OF   THE   PROFESSION. 


APROPOS  OF  SEVERAL  SUBJECTS. 


SHALL  always  congratulate  myself  on 
having  selected  The  -  -  Medical 

College,  as  the  fountain  at  which  to 
quaff  the  waters  of  medical  lore.     Not 
only  was  my  choice  a  wise  one  as  regards 
the  method  and  character  of  instruction 
afforded  me  by  my  alma  mater,  but  I  am 
indebted  to  the  college  for  the  acquaint- 
ance of  one  of  the  kindest  friends  I  have  ever 
known. 

Doctor  William  Weymouth  was  one  of  the  faculty  of 
the  school,  and  an  enthusiastic  teacher.  He  was  apparently 
quite  fond  of  his  work,  and  enjoyed  the  society  of  students. 
To  this  latter  peculiarity  I  was  afterward  indebted  for  his 
friendship.  I  do  not  know  how  the  doctor  happened  to  take 
a  fancy  to  me,  but  I  feel  warranted  in  believing  that  he  did  so; 
basing  my  belief  upon  the  many  acts  of  kindness  with  which 
he  favored  me  during  my  student  days.  It  was  not  until  the 
end  of  my  second  college  year,  however,  that  I  became  well 
acquainted  writh  Doctor  Weymouth.  I  was  brought  promi- 
nently to  his  attention  in  a  very  peculiar  manner: 

I  had  appeared  for  examination  in  his  branch  of  instruc- 
tion, in  the  hope  of  getting  it  out  of  the  way  and  thus 
securing  more  time  for  other  studies.  I  am  free  to  say  that 
I  had  been  somewhat  neglectful  of  the  particular  chair  under 
consideration,  and  had  relied  on  my  ability  to  cram  up  for 
examination  at  the  last  moment,  with  the  usual  result — I  ap- 
peared before  the  professor,  with  as  large  and  varied  an 
assortment  of  unclassified  mis-information  as  ever  filled  a 
poor  student's  head. 


26  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

Doctor  Weymouth  was  always  most  considerate  in  his 
methods  of  dealing-  with  students,  and  rarely  failed  to  give 
those  who  fell  down  in  the  examinations,  another  opportunity 
to  demonstrate  their  qualification — or  lack  of  it.  He  there- 
fore sent  for  me,  and  after  informing  me  in  a  most  courteous 
and  sympathetic  manner  that  I  had  failed  in  my  examination, 
made  an  appointment  with  me  at  his  residence,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  giving-  me  another  trial.  I  gladly,  yet  with  some  mis- 
givings, embraced  the  opportunity  and  at  the  appointed  time 
was  on  hand  for  the  ordeal.  My  re-examination,  though 
searching,  was  perfectly  fair  and  practical,  yet  only  served  to 
still  further  demonstrate  my  incapacity,  hence  I  was  not  sur- 
prised, when,  after  an  hour's  careful  questioning,  the  doctor 
shook  his  head  regretfully  and  said: 

"  My  boy,  supposing  you  were  in  my  position,  and  I  in 
yours,  just  now,  what  would  be  likely  to  happen?" 

"Well,"  I  replied,  manfully,  "a  certain  student  of  my 
acquaintance  would  get  most  beautifully  plucked." 

The  doctor  smiled,  and  said: 

"And  I  fear  I  shall  have  to  adopt  your  suggestion,  for 
your  own  sake.  It  would  be  hardly  fair  to  you,  to  allow  you 
to  go  through  half-informed  upon  any  branch  of  your  studies. 
I  regret  that  I  could  not  have  taught  you  more — I  fear  I  have 
been  remiss  in  some  direction  or  other.  Your  failure  has 
by  no  means  ruffled  my  dignity,  but  leads  me  to  think  that  I 
myself  may  possibly  be  to  blame — I  should,  at  least,  have 
imparted  sufficient  information  to  enable  you  to  pass  such 
an  examination  as  I  have  given  you." 

The  doctor  really  seemed  conscience-stricken,  hence  I 
hastened  to  console  him  by  informing  him  of  my  neglect, 
and  the  fact  that  I  had  put  off  studying  his  branch  until  just 
before  examination. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "you  will  at  least  have  a  chance  to 
make  amends  next  year,  and  if  you  value  my  peace  of  mind,  as 
well  as  your  own  self-interest,  I  am  sure  you  will  redeem 
yourself  most  nobly." 

After  some  desultory  conversation,  I  bade  the  doctor 
good-day  and  departed  for  home,  with  a  much  clearer  con- 
science than  if  I  had  succeeded  in  barely  getting  through 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  27 

the  examination.  I  mentally  resolved  to  secure  a  mark  in 
Doctor  Wey mouth's  branch  the  following-  year,  which  should 
make  that  worthy  gentleman  proud  of  his  teaching-.  As  I 
was  leaving-,  the  doctor  g-ave  me  a  cordial  invitation  to  call 
ag-ain,  and  in  so  earnest  a  manner  that  I  felt  assured  he  meant 
it — there  is  a  certain  subtle  quality  of  speech  which  always 
distinguishes  the  g-enuine  from  the  conventional.  I  returned 
home  with  the  impression  that  I  was  henceforth  to  be  favored 
with  the  doctor's  friendship. 

I  not  only  called,  in  response  to  Doctor  Weymouth's  invi- 
tation, but  it  was  not  long-  before  there  was  a  tacit  under- 
standing- between  the  doctor  and  myself,  that  I  was  to  visit 
him  at  reg-ular  intervals  and  spend  the  evening-.  As  social 
indulgences  and  recreation  are  rare  in  the  life  of  the  medical 
student,  I  g-ladly  embraced  the  opportunity — and  most  roy- 
ally was  I  entertained. 

I  found  Doctor  Weymouth  a  most  entertaining- and  versa- 
tile companion,  one  in  whose  society  time  never  drag-g-ed.  His 
experience  had  been  large,  his  fund  of  stories  seemed  inex- 
haustible, and,  as  he  never  tired  of  telling-  them,  I  enjoyed  the 
intellectual  feast  that  he  laid  before  me,  to  the  utmost. 

I  do  not  know  how  my  dear  old  friend  will  like  the  idea  of 
having-  some  of  his  many  stories  published — he  himself 
always  had  a  rather  poor  opinion  of  their  artistic  merits — 
but  I  know  he  will  .forgive  the  liberty  I  have  taken,  pro- 
vided I  have  not  mutilated  them  beyond  recognition.  I 
dared  not  ask  him  to  edit  the  stories  himself,  lest  he  suppress 
my  budding-  literary  aspirations  altogether. 

I  am  sure  that  I  have  not  done  the  dear  old  doctor  full 
justice,  but  if  the  reader  will  please  remember  that  the 
deficiencies — which  I  fear  are  only  too  apparent,  here  and 
there — are  mine,  and  not  Doctor  Weymouth's,  no  harm  will 
come  of  them. 

My  kind  friend  was  most  decidedly  a  man  of  moods, 
hence  there  is  no  great  degree  of  uniformity  in  these  tales. 
He  passed  from  grave  to  gay,  from  jolly  fun  to  mocking 
satire,  from  light  pleasantry  to  serious  philosophy,  from 
humor  to  pathos,  so  rapidly  that  I  had  the  greatest  difficulty 
in  following  him,  in  the  more  or  less  imperfect  chronicle  which 


28  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

I  have  undertaken.  I  never  was  able  to  surmise  what  was  to 
be  expected  at  any  of  our  pleasant  conversations,  and  so, 
if  the  reader  experiences  a  succession  of  surprises,  he  or 
she  will  please  remember  that  I  had  many  similar  expe- 
riences during"  the  enjoyable  evenings  spent  with  my  doctor 
friend. 


"Hallo,  my  boy!"  said  the  doctor,  "I'm  very  glad  to  see 
you.  It  would  appear  that  you  did  not  forget  my  invitation  to 
call.  I  assure  you,  sir,  that  I  am  likely  to  enjoy  your  visit 
more  than  you  yourself  could  possibly  do.  Were  you  a  full- 
fledged  M.  D.  instead  of  a  student,  I  do  not  know  that  I  could 
honestly  express  so  much  pleasure  in  meeting  you  again. 

"Do  you  kmnv,  sir,  that  the  medical  student  is  very 
attractive  to  me — especially  a  senior,  with  his  hopes,  fears, 
speculations,  and  twinges  of  conscience?  It  does  me  good  to 
talk  with  one  into  whose  young  soul  the  double-distilled  venom 
of  worldliness,and  the  iron  of  scientific  and  professional  com- 
petition have  not  yet  entered. 

"The  young  man  in  the  profession  of  medicine — indeed, 
in  all  professions — is  the  vital  principle  of  the  entire  body 
professional,  and  I,  for  one,  appreciate  him.  What  would  we 
do  without  him? 

"It  is  the  young  man  who  furnishes  the  unselfish,  frank, 
and  candid  ambition  of  the  profession — he  it  is  wrho  gives  it 
its  rosy  hopes  and  lofty  ideals,  who  imparts  to  it  some  of 
his  own  warm-hearted,  honest  enthusiasm. 

"We  old  fellows,  whose  hearts  have  become  somewhat 
worldly;  whose  feelings  have  become  case-hardened;  whose 
sympathies  and  emotions  have  been  worn  threadbare  by 
rough  treatment  and  frequent  abuse;  whose  faith  in  human 
nature  has  been  ground  to  an  exceeding  fineness  in  the  tread- 
mill of  work-a-day  life — need  just  such  healthful  rejuvenation 
as  contact  with  virile,  youthful  minds  imparts. 

"  Possibly  it  is  better  that  the  outer  gloss  of  the  student's 
armor  of  hope  and  sanguine  expectation  eventually  becomes 
worn  off;  better  that  his  ideals  sooner  or  later  become  less 
rosy  by  being  tossed  to  and  fro,  hither  and  thither,  on  the 
storm-swept  sea  of  active  professional  life,  yet  I  cannot  help 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  29 

thinking-  that  the  profession  owes  much  to  the  infusion  of 
young-  hopes  and  new,  vig-orous  blood  so  richly  laden  with 
red  corpuscles,  that  each  year  adds  to  the  body  medical. 
Why,  my  lad,  were  it  not  for  the  revivifying-  influence  of 
the  young-  men  who  enter  the  profession  from  year  to  year, 
we  old  chaps  would  become  a  lot  of  dry,  shriveled-up  mum- 
mies, with  nothing  in  the  present  worth  living-  for,  and  no 
hope  for  the  future  worth  striving-  for. 

•  'Tis  well  to  g-ive  honour  and  glory  to  age, 

With  its  lessons  of  wisdom  and  truth, 
Yet  who  would  not  go  back  to  the  fanciful  page, 

And  the  fairy  tale  read  but  in  youth  ? 
Let  time  rolling  on,  crown  with  fame  or  with  gold — 

Let  us  bask  in  the  kindliest  beams  ; 
Yet  what  hope  can  we  cherish,  what  gift  can  we  hold, 

That  will  bless  like  our  earlier  dreams  ?' 

"  My  boy,  there  are  those  who  say  that  five-and-forty  is 
'the  prime  of  life.'  By  what  standard  do  they  g-aug-e  it? 
Such  people  weary  me!  What  man  does  not  pause  in  mid- 
life,  at  forty-five,  and  sigh,  '  It  mig-ht  have  been  '? — Who  then, 
can  say  that  the  measure  of  his  years  has  been  filled  with 
satisfaction? — No  one,  I  fancy. 

"At  twenty,  nothing  is  impossible  to  our  youthful  hopes 
and  madly-pulsing-  ambition — at  forty-five,  we  have  most 
effectually  proven  that  most  of  our  desires  were  for  the 
impossible.  Is  not  the  rosy-hued  dream  of  future  triumph 
fairer  far  than  the  retrospective  survey  of  ambitions  ungrati- 
fied? 

"  Forty-five,  the  prime  of  life!  Go  to,  all  ye  false  prophets 
and  sophistical  middle-ag-ed  philosophers — the  sublime  ego- 
tism  of  a  stagnate  animality  blinds  you! 

"  Give  me  the  age  of  twenty,  when  the  world  is  new  and 
bright,  when  the  sap  of  youth,  the  fire  of  youthful  ambition, 
is  not  polluted  with  the  gall  and  wormwood  of  disappoint- 
ment, nor  deadened  by  the  choke-damp  of  ungratified  ambi- 
tion. The  roses  of  hope,  the  jewels  of  lofty  aspiration,  the 
honey  of  love  and  happiness,  the  laurel  wreath  of  fame — all 
are  within  your  very  grasp,  and  you  have  seemingly  but  to 
close  the  hand,  to  realize  your  fondest  hopes. — 'Tis  then, 
indeed,  you  are  in  the  prime  of  life! 


30 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"And  then  comes  five-and-forty — you  have  long-  since 
closed  your  hand  and  ardently  clasped  your  own;  perchance 
you  have  hugged  your  fond  delusion  to  your  breast  full 
many  a  year.  You  open  your  hand— and  find  it  empty! 
The  sweet-voiced  bird  of  many  and  beauteous  hues  has  flown! 
You  are  now  a  decadent!  It  is  true  you  are  wiser  than  of 
yore,  but  full  dearly  have  you  paid  for  your  wisdom. 

' When,  through  the  veiled  ideal 


The  vigorous  reason  thrusts  a  knife, 
And  rends  the  illusion  and  shows  us  the  real, 
Oh!  this  is  the  time  called  "  prime  of  life. '  " 

"How  rude  the  awakening-  from  your  fair  dream!     Hap- 
piness was   yours,   for  you   thought,  aye,  you  felt  it  to  be 


THE    PRIME   OF    LIFE. 


yours;  misery  is  now  your  lot,  because — well,  because  you 
have  been  awakened  by  the  bell  that  dolefully  tolls  the  noon- 
tide of  life.  Ah!  that  bell!— 

"Tell  me,  my  good  friend,  you  who  have  been  so  rudely 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  31 

aroused  from  your  life's  day-dream  by  that  doleful  mid-day 
chime — is  forty-five  the  prime  of  life? 

"How  honest  you  are,  to  be  sure!  But  only  because  I 
know  you  so  well,  old  fellow,  and  can  estimate  at  its  true 
value,  the  self-satisfied  smirk  that  is  playing-  hide-and-seek 
in  that  beard — which  is  already  showing1  a  tinge  of  frost. 
You  cannot  deceive  me,  my  gallant  sir,  for  I  myself  would 
fain  be  twenty  once  again! 

"Heigho!  I  fancy  you  understand  why  I  am  fond  of 
students — I  have  an  excellent  memory.  I,  too,  had  my  ideals; 
I,  too,  once  felt  that  nothing-  was  impossible;  I,  too,  once  cast 
the  word  '  fail'  out  of  my  vocabulary;  I,  too — but  where's  the 
use  in  harking-  back  just  now?  The  Italian  bard,  Aleardi, 
has  summed  up  my  every  thought  in  the  beautiful  lines — 

'  O,  give  me  back  once  more, 
O,  give  me,  Lord,  one  hour  of  youth  again! 
For  in  that  time  I  was  serene  and  bold, 
And  uncontaminate,  and  enraptured  with 
The  universe.     I  did  not  know  the  pangs 
Of  the  proud  mind,  nor  the  sweet  miseries 
Of  love;  and  had  never  gather 'd  yet, 
After  those  fires,  so  sweet  in  burning,  bitter 
Handfuls  of  ashes,  that,  with  tardy  tears 
Sprinkled,  at  last  have  nourish 'd  into  bloom, 
The  solitary  flowers  of  penitence. '  " 


"  Do  you  know,  my  boy,  that  you  were  late  to-night? 

"  Professor  A —  —  kept  you  over  time,  eh?  Well,  that's 
just  like  him!  Fond  of  talking,  isn't  he? 

"  Ye-yes,  he  does  talk  well — sometimes.  When  talking 
about  his  own  remarkable  cases — which  are  largely  the 
product  of  psychic  prestidigitation — he  is  positively  eloquent. 
However,  do  not  tempt  me  to  gossip. 

"By  the  way,  young  man,  I  have  something  smokable 
here,  that  may  suit  you  better  than  my  havanas.  This  cob 
pipe,  and  some  German  student  '  ranch  tabakS  will  make  you 
democratic  if  not  happy. 

"  Try  some  of  the  punch.  There  is  a  flavor  of  the  Orient 
and  old  '  Kaintuck  '  combined,  in  that  sublime  fluid. 

"How  is  it  made? 


32  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  Why,  for  the  life  of  me  I  can't  tell  you.  My  good  wife 
concocts  it,  but  whether  it  is  the  artist  or  the  ingredients 
that  make  it  so  delicious,  I  cannot  say.  Entre  nous,  though, 
I  think  it  is  the  artist. 

"  I  say,  my  lad,  when  you  marry,  get  a  woman  like  her  if 
you  can — which  I  doubt.  Ah!  there's  a  rara  avis! 

"Indulgent? 

"  To  a  fault,  sir,  to  a  fault — else  how  could  she  travel  in 
harness  with  me?  Oh,  she  knows  my  weaknesses — most  of 
them  at  least — and  can  handle  me  accordingly! 

"Someone,  when  asked  how  to  manage  a  husband,  said, 
'  Feed  the  brute!'  I  don't  know  who  the  fellow  was,  but  my 
wife  discovered  that  plan  long  before  she  ever  heard  any  such 
advice.  When  I  come  home  cross,  hungry,  and  full  of  devils — 
black,  green,  and  blue — what  does  she  do?  Talk  to  me? 
Never! 

"She  feeds  me  beefsteak  cut  right  out  of  the  heart  of  a 
big,  juicy  tenderloin;  then,  when  digestion  is  fully  estab- 
lished, she  boldly  confronts  me  with  some  of  the  gossip  of 
the  day,  or  a  story  of  the  latest  clever  things  the  children 
have  said  or  done,  and  I  not  only  listen,  but  conduct  myself 
quite  like  a  civilized  being. 

"I  think  my  wife  must  have  been  in  Lincoln  park  some- 
time or  other,  about  the  time  the  animals  were  being  fed. 
She's  a  great  physiologist,  any  way.  She  could  give  Anstie 
points  in  nerve  pathology  and  therapeutics.  Neurasthenia, 
profanity,  and  general  cussedness  of  temper,  according  to 
her,  mean  simply  the  cry  of  starved  ganglia,  and  nerve  fibres 
and  such  things,  for  pabulum — and  pabulum  in  her  vernacular 
signifies  a  blood-rare  tenderloin  steak.  Ah!  she  is  a  great 
cook — and  a  greater  diplomat! — 

"Speaking  of  my  wife  reminds  me  of  matrimony — not 
in  general,  but  as  a  duty  of  doctors.  You  had  better  prick 
up  your  ears,  my  boy!  How  your  eyes  glisten! 

"Oh  ho!     Already  picked  out,  eh? 

"  Soon  as  you  are  established! 

"Well,  then,  what  I  have  to  say  about  selecting  a  wife 
and  joining  'the  silent  majority,'  will  have  to  be  impersonal. 

"  You  can  tell  it  to  the  other  boys  to-morrow? 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  33 

"  Oh  yes,  they'll  be  glad  to  hear  your  proxy  views  on  that 
subject,  no  doubt!  Some  of  those  big,  double-fisted  country 
boys  will  think  of  that  buxom  lass  back  home,  and  pass  you 
and  my  moralistic  reflections  up,  over,  and  out!  I  think  you'd 
better  keep  what  I  say  to  yourself.  I'm  settled  in  life,  long- 
since,  and  you  think  you  are — but  we  can  sit  on  our  pinnacle 
of  judgment  and  moralize  to  our  heart's  content. 

"  The  selection  of  a  wife  is  a  very  important  matter  to 
the  young  professional  man.  I  presume  you  are  so  well 
satisfied  with  certain  sentimental  and  supposedly  cardiac 
arrangements  you  have  made,  it  would  be  impossible  to 
make  you  appreciate  the  fact  that  the  selection  of  a  wife 
is  one  of  the  main  issues  in  getting  on  in  the  world.  The 
doctor's  wife  is  one  of  the  most  important  factors  in  his 
daily  routine  of  life.  She  can  make  or  break  him,  and  not  half 
try.  You  see,  therefore,  the  necessity  of  caution  in  leaping 
into  the  matrimonial  sea. 

"  Did  you  ever  notice  what  a  variety  of  girls  the  average 
young  fellow  thinks  he  has  to  select  from?  He  begins  by 
wondering  whether  he  will  marry  money,  beauty,  brains,  or 
social  position,  and  invariably  winds  up  by  marrying — the 
woman  he  loves — at  least  he  is  hypnotized  into  thinking  so. 

"  Is  it  not  a  beneficent  provision  of  nature  that  the  human 
heart  is  capable  of  idealizing?  Some  coarse  natures  go 
through  life  with  a  gloomy  tinge  of  misogynism — and  a  deeper 
dye  of  meanness — and  perish  without  knowing  what  the  ideal 
of  womanliness  means.  Their  sentiments  are  a  reflex  of 
their  own  coarse  brain-cells.  Most  men  worthy  of  the  name 
meet  during  their  lives  with  at  least  four  women  whom  they 
can  love  and  respect.  With  mother,  sister,  sweetheart,  and 
wife  to  choose  from  at  different  periods  of  life,  the  man  who 
has  no  ideals  is  inexcusable.  To  be  sure,  these  gifts  are  not 
always  distributed  equally,  but  a  fellow  must  have  a  mother — 
or  a  memory  of  one,  and  if  he  doesn't  get  a  sweetheart  and 
transform  her  into  a  wife,  why,  that's  his  own  fault. 

"Howl  pity  the  man  of  no  ideals!  What  is  there  in  life  to 
make  it  worth  living — for  such  as  he?  He  is  a  discord  in  the 
harmony  of  nature,  a  grub  in  the  garden  of  sentiment. 
Worst  of  all,  he  is  a  failure  as  a  man. 


34  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Ah!  my  boy,  what  were  the  drama  of  life  without  the 
inspiration  of  lovely,  peerless  woman? — 

'She  is  a  vision  of  delight,  when  first  she  gleams  upon  our  sight, 
A  lovely  apparition,  sent  to  be  a  moment's  ornament. 
Her  eyes,  as  stars  of  twilight  fair, 
Like  twilight,  too,  her  dusky  hair, 
But  all  things  else  about  her  drawn, 
From  May-time  and  the  cheerful  dawn. 
A  dainty  shape,  an  image  gay, 
To  haunt,  to  startle,  and  waylay. ' 

"Woman,  my  dear  young-  friend,  is  a  subject  to  which 
neither  the  emotional  sentiment  of  the  poet  nor  the  most 
exalted  imagery  of  the  romancist  have  ever  done  justice. 
She  has  driven  philosophers  mad,  and  king's  to  perdition;  she 
has  ruined  empires  and  saved  states;  she  has  destroyed  peo- 
ples and  rescued  nations;  she  has  corrupted  saints,  and  raised 
sinners  to  the  highest  plane  of  morality;  she  has  been  a  curse 
and  a  blessing  to  all  mankind,  a  thorn  in  the  side  and  a  com- 
fort to  the  soul;  she  has  been  human  to  man  and  as  cold  and 
heartless  as  stone  to  woman;  she  has  been  true  to  her 
affections  and  false  to  herself;  she  has  been  the  fountain  of 
inspiration  and  the  well-spring  of  ambition;  she  has  been  the 
shrine  of  the  hero  and  the  despair  of  the  coward;  she  has 
acted  the  combined  roles  of  angel  and  devil  with  amazing 
versatility;  since  the  world  began,  she  has  ever  been — woman. 
Who  but  an  aspiring  egotist  could  aspire  either  to  analyze 
her  or  do  her  even  scant  justice? 

"Did  you  ever  realize  to  what  extent  woman  pervades, 
not  only  the  affairs  of  the  present,  but  the  spiritual  panorama 
of  future  promise?  The  world  did  not  fairly  begin  until  she 
appeared,  and  when  mortal  man  is  permitted  to  peep  into  the 
heaven  which  is  said  to  be  beyond,  he  finds  it  peopled  with — 
female  angels!  Who  ever  heard  of  a  heaven  without  them? 

"Our  ideal  has  never  given  us  but  the  one  Eden.  The 
lofty  aspiration  and  beauteous  imagery  of  genius — both 
material  and  spiritual — has  ever  reverted,  through  all  the 
ages,  to  the  only  earthly  paradise  ever  conceived  by  the 
imagination  of  man  as  the  sum  and  summit  of  human  desire. 
Who  shall  say  that  the  paradise  of  the  ancient  dreamer  of 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


35 


scripture  and  oriental  romance,  was  not  passing-  fair?  And 
yet,  was  it  not  a  desolate  wild,  a  waste  of  barren  sands, 
before  the  coming-  of  the  only  divinity  of  whom  we  can  be 
really  certain — woman,  lovely,  incomparable  woman?  With 
her  divinity  alone,  came  the  consummation  of  mortal  bliss; 
she  alone,  broug-ht  warmth,  g-ood  cheer,  and  beauty  to  ter- 
restrial existence;  throug-h  her  alone,  was  it  possible  to 
bring-  to  primal  man,  the  first  material  realization  of  human 
happiness. 

"Scoff  as  we  may,  at  the  intrinsic  defects  and  glaring- 
inconsistencies  of  the  ancient  scriptural  story  of  creation,  it 

still  contains  the  warp 
and  woof  of  a  tissue 
of  the  most  beautiful 
sentiment.  Childish 
thoug-h  the  story  may 
be,  it  is  childishness 
par  excellence,  that 
evolves  bright  dreams 
and  the  all-pervading- 
fragrance  of  purity. 
In  childhood  alone,  can 
the  mind  be  said  to  be 
intrinsically  pure,  and 
if  the  Garden  of  Eden 
was  evolved  from 
childish  minds — from 
the  minds  of  mature, 
yet  simple  men,  who 
dreamed,  and  thought, 
and  spake  as  children, 
small  wonder  is  it, 
that  it  should  have  been  a  dream  of  beauty. 

"To  be  sure,  the  snake  came  also,  but  I  question  much, 
whether  the  story  could  have  been  satisfactory  without  him. 
Had  woman  fallen  without  temptation  she  would  have  lost 
much  of  her  divinity.  We  certainly  never  could  have  become 
reconciled  to  the  expulsion  of  the  human  family  from  the 
almost  celestial  garden,  had  we  not  heard  of  the  snake. 


EVE   UP   TO   DATE 


36  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

Mother  Eve  suffered  severely  for  her  folly — so  sayeth  the 
chronicle — and  her  daughters  have  shown  that  her  repent- 
ance was  sincere,  if  heredity  counts  for  anything-.  It  has 
ever  since  been  absolutely  impossible  to  establish  social  rela- 
tions between  women  and  snakes.  Eve  may  have  chatted 
with  the  original  serpent,  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  no  woman 
has  ever  gossiped  with  one  of  his  descendants.  The 
ancient  reptile  would  have  a  lonesome  time  of  it  now-a-days; 
— he  could  find  no  woman  who  would  face  him  long-  enoug-h  to 
be  tempted. 

"  Dearly  boug-ht  was  thy  lesson,  sweet  woman,  but  profit- 
able enoug-h  hath  it  been  for  thee! 

"Supposing-  the  story  of  the  Garden  of  Eden  were 
literally  true,  do  you  believe,  my  dear  boy,  that  Adam  had 
any  particular  occasion  to  bewail  his  fate?  /am  too  g-allant 
to  think  he  was  not  perfectly  contented.  Eden  was  not 
paradise  until  illumined  by  the  lig-ht  of  love,  and,  as  our 
ancient  progenitor  took  away  from  that  earthly  elysium, 
all  that  made  life  worth  living,  we  must  needs  waste  no  sym- 
pathy upon  him.  We  modern  lovers  would  have  shamed  good 
old  father  Adam  for  his  lack  of  gallantry,  had  he  breathed  a 
single  sigh  of  regret  at  the  loss  of  Eden. 

The  scriptures  would  have  us  believe  that  the  expulsion 
from  the  Garden  of  Eden  was  a  punishment! — Why,  father 
Adam  should  have  whistled  in  mockery  and  derision  at  his 
sentence!  Was  not  Eve  beside  him,  and  was  she  not  the 
nearest  approach  to  perfection  in  frail  femininity  that  the 
world  has  ever  known?  What  was  the  loss  of  earthly  immor- 
tality compared  with  the  companionship  of  Eve? 

"  Verily,  if  the  story  of  the  fall  of  our  ancient  parents  be 
true,  Adam's  lot  should  have  been  a  happy  one.  His  punish- 
ment was  a  travesty — like  that  of  the  little  boy  at  school,  who 
is  made  to  go  over  and  sit  with  the  girls.  The  darkest, 
gloomiest  wood  is  the  fairest  of  gardens,  if  graced  by  the 
virtues  and  beauty  of  peerless  woman — a  bower  of  roses  is 
but  a  gloomy  hermit  cell  without  her. 

"Adam  had  but  to  recall  those  cheerless  days  of  his 
bachelorhood,  to  be  reconciled  to  his  punishment.  He  should 
not  have  forgotten  that  mournful  period  before  Eve  came — 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  37 

'  When  slowly  passed  the  melancholy  day 
And  still  the  stranger  wist  not  where  to  stay. 
The  world  was  sad!  the  garden  was  a  wild! 
And  man,  the  hermit,  sighed— 'till  woman  smiled.' 

"Poor  old  Adam!  what  a  disconsolate  old  bachelor  he 
must  have  been,  to  be  sure! 

"Some  bachelors  are  content  with  their  lot,  you  say? 
"Oh  yes,  after  the  fashion  of  that  jolly  Bohemian  who 
wrote — 

'  I  go  where  I  list  and  return  when  I  please, 
I  am  free  as  the  fays  of  the  wandering  breeze; 
In  a  stoup  of  good  wine  and  a  sup  with  a  friend, 
I  find  a  good  cheer  and  joy  without  end; 
I  am  free  from  all  care  and  a  shrew  of  a  wife — 
There's  nothing  for  me  like  a  bachelor's  life. 

'  When  even  comes  on,  'mid  the  gathering  gloom, 
I  hasten  away  to  my  bachelor  room; 
I  don  an  old  coat,  put  my  feet  on  a  chair, 
And  wait  for  the  step  of  a  friend  on  the  stair — 
Far  up  from  the  street,  with  its  rumble  and  strife, 
Oh!  give  me  my  comfort — my  bachelor  life. 

'  As  I  smoke  my  old  cob  and  puff  up  the  rings, 
And  revel  in  songs  sweet  memory  sings, 
Slowly  there  rises  before  me  a  face — 
Whose  features  the  smoke  rings  seem  fondly  to  trace. 
Oh!  this  is  the  life — but,  by  Jove!  I  will  go 
And  ask  her  again — she  may  not  say  no. ' 

"  It  is  singular,  yet  nevertheless  true,  that  those  senti- 
ments which  are  nearest  our  hearts  are  often  the  most  diffi- 
cult of  expression.  Speak  of  woman,  and  your  auditor 
immediately  conjures  up  a  vision  that  is  to  him  a  dream  of 
loveliness  beyond  all  power  of  description — the  tongue  of  the 
dreamer  could  never  give  voice  to  his  thoughts. 

"A  sable  denizen  of  Kentucky  was  once  asked  for  an 
opinion  as  to  the  sweetest  thing  on  earth.  He  replied  most 
emphatically  in  favor  of  'dat  watermillion!'  His  interlocutor 
then  asked,  'Whut  erbout  'possum  an'  sweet  kyarlinas,  eh, 
Sambo?' 

"  '  Bress  yo'  haht,  honey,  dey's  too  good  ter  talk  erbout!' 
said  Sambo,  as  the  saliva  trickled  in  a  pellucid  rill  down  the 
angles  of  his  capacious  mouth. 


38  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"If  a  beautiful  woman  be  substituted  for  the  "possum 
and  taters,'  we  can  echo  the  darky's  sentiments,  even  to 
the  salivation. 

"In  thus  eulogizing-  woman,  my  young  friend,  I  by  no 
means  claim  that  I  understand  her.  She  is  by  no  means  an 
open  book  that  he  who  runs  may  read.  Her  subtlety  is 
one  of  her  chief  fascinations — once  understood,  the  fair  sex 
would  lose  much  of  its  attractiveness. 

"The  sentimental  side  of  human  nature  is  prone  to 
pin  its  faith  to  those  thing's  it  cannot  understand.  The 
most  beautiful  scene  fails  of  appreciation,  if  we  chance  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  scene-shifter  and  the  supe,  tugging 
away  at  the  windlass  in  the  wing's.  The  most  beautiful 
romance  or  poem,  loses  half  its  charm  when  we  peep  into  the 
garret  where  sits  the  long-haired,  dishevelled  author,  grind- 
ing out  his  stuff  on  the  head  of  a  flour-barrel  by  the  light  of  a 
penny-dip. 

"Confound  these  practical  chaps  wrho  are  everlastingly 
rolling  the  beautiful  cloudland  and  rosy  atmosphere  of 
romance  away,  and  revealing  the  bare  boards  of  realism! 

"  No,  we  must  not  study  woman  too  closely.  If  there  is 
an  atmosphere  of  illusion  about  her,  let  us  take  the  gifts  the 
gods  provide — and  not  seek  for  evidence  that  our  idol  is,  after 
all,  onlv  flesh  and  blood.  It  will  not  do;  even  a  junior  student 
can  realize  how  rude  the  shock  may  be,  when  love's  young 
dream  becomes  an  ordinary,  every-day,  female  patient! 

"But  do  not  infer  that  I  am  advising  you  not  to  study  any 
of  the  various  phases  of  woman  nature — I  am  simply  sug- 
gesting that  you  must  learn  where  to  draw  the  line. 

"The  young  bachelor  who  considers  himself  possessed 
of  all  the  charms  of  Adonis,  must  look  sharply  to  his  laurels, 
else  some  lantern-jawed,  freckle-faced  'yahoo'  may  wrest 
the  prize  that  has  so  long  been  the  subject  of  his  waking 
thoughts  and  nightly  dreams,  from  out  his  very  grasp. 

"You,  yourself,  may,  at  this  very  moment,  think  your 
prize  secure  and  be  calculating  on  your  chances  of  securing 
enough  lucre  to  fee  the  minister — but  do  not  dally  with  fate, 
lest  the  other  fellow  cut  you  out. 

"It  has  been  said  by  some  old  writer,  that  the  plainest 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  39 

man,  who  pays  assiduous  attention  to  a  woman,  may  win  her 
heart  more  readily  than  the  handsome  fellow,  who,  secure  in 
his  serene  self-satisfaction,  forgets  to  attend  strictly  to  the 
business  in  hand.  Many  years  ago,  a  celebrated  Englishman 
remarked  to  Lord  Townsend — who  was  noted  for  his  physical 
attractiveness — 'You,  my  Lord,  are  the  handsomest  man  in 
the  kingdom,  and  I,  the  plainest,  but  I  would  give  your  lord- 
ship half  an  hour's  start,  and  yet  come  up  with  you  in  the 
affections  of  any  woman  whom  we  both  wished  to  win,  because 
all  those  little  attentions  that  you  would  omit,  on  the  score 
of  your  fine  exterior,  I  should  be  obliged  to  pay,  because  of 
the  deficiencies  of  mine.' 

"Was  it  not  Burton  who  said,  in  that  charming  and  racy 
novelette,  The  Anatomy  of  Melancholy — 'As  a  bull,  tied  to 
a  fig  tree,  grows  gentle  on  a  sudden,  so  is  a  savage  and  obdu- 
rate heart  mollified  by  fair  speeches'? 

"My  boy,  when  your  judgment  has  ripened  in  the  sun  of 
the  passing  years  of  experience,  and  your  hair  has  become 
tinged  by  the  frosts  of  a  few  winters  of  gathering  wisdom,  you 
will  realize  that  I  speak  the  truth,  when  I  say  that  that  most 
complex  and  fascinating  problem — lovely  woman — is  never 
understood,  even  in  small  degree,  till  the  sun  of  life  is  well 
along  toward  its  meridian — and  then,  youth  is  gone  and  you 
have  naught  to  offer  at  the  shrine  of  beauty,  save  a  hard,  cold, 
practical,  selfish  worldliness. 

"But  dear  me!  I  had  begun  discussing  the  subject  of 
woman,  from  a  practical  standpoint,  and  here  I  am,  meander- 
ing on  with  a  lot  of  sentimental  gush,  to  which  nobody  but  an 
impractical,  romantic  young  fellow  like  yourself  would  con- 
descend to  listen!" 


"There  is  one  phase  of  the  medico-matrimonial  question 
which  deserves  special  consideration.  I  have  sometimes  won- 
dered whether  the  matter  is  not  too  one-sided.  The  aver- 
age doctor  is  such  a  slave  to  his  profession,  that  he  simply 
cannot  give  his  wife  and  family  half-way  decent  treatment. 
I  have  often  thought  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  have  a 
law  prohibiting  doctors  from  marrying  until  they  have 
acquired  a  competence.  But  then,  I  suppose  that  such  a  law 


40  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

would  condemn  most  of  us  to  perpetual  bachelorhood.  Never- 
theless, however,  could  there  be  a  more  doleful  fate  for  a 
charming-  woman,  than  to  be  tied  for  life  to  one  of  those 
weary,  plodding-,  careworn,  worried,  under-paid  and  un-appre- 
ciated  creatures  who  are  chained  to  the  galleys  we  know  as 
'g-eneral  practice?' 

"Extreme  cases,  you  say?  My  dear  boy,  it  is  the  finan- 
cially successful  doctor  who  is  the  extreme  case.  The  aver- 
age family  practitioner — and  he  is  the  bone  and  sinew  of  the 
profession — reminds  me  of  a  horse  in  a  treadmill,  grinding 
out  grist  that  he  never  has  time,  opportunity,  or  appetite  to 
eat.  He  is  a  kind  of  modern  Sisyphus,  wearily  rolling  that 
everlasting  stone  up  the  hill.  By  and  bye,  the  stone  roller's 
strength  gives  out,  the  stone  rolls  over  him,  and  there  he  lies, 
just  where  he  started  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  life,  smashed 
flatter  than  a  griddle  cake!  Oh,  'tis  a  merry  war! — according 
to  college  announcements. 

"Some  doctors  reap  rich  rewards,  you  say?  Yes,  but 
the  well-to-do  specialist  is,  after  all,  the  gilded  puppet.  Look 
behind  the  scenes,  and  you  will  see  the  grey-bearded,  stoop- 
shouldered  family  doctor,  bending  over  the  windlass  that 
winds  the  other  fellow  up  and  makes  him  go.  Well,  I  sup- 
pose that's  the  general  practitioner's  role  in  the  drama  of  life. 
Your  family  practitioner  is  now-a-days  only  a  distributing 
agency  from  which  the  specialist  draws  his  profitable  cases. 
But  the  specialist  is  generous;  he  doesn't  try  to  take  away 
those  weary,  thankless,  all-night  cases,  and  those  dangerous 
contagious  diseases  from  the  every-day  doctor.  But  I  am  get- 
ting sarcastic,  and  that  sort  of  thing  is  unnatural  for  me.— 

"In  the  words  of  the  congressman  from  the  south, 
'  where  was  I  at?' — Oh  yes,  we  were  talking  about  doctors' 
wives: 

"  Speaking  of  the  selection  of  wives,  I  know  one  doctor — 
a  type  of  a  hundred  others — who  evidently  had  an  eye  to 
windward  when  he  married.  The  lady  in  the  case  is  a  past- 
mistress  of  diplomacy  and  medico-political  intrigue,  beside 
whom  Disraeli's  reputation  and  Machiavelli's  malodor  are 
weak  indeed.  She  belongs  to  several  churches,  and  to  card 
and  social  clubs  g-alore,  and  makes  a  specialty  of  drumming 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


41 


up  practice  for  'my  doctor.'  The  doctor  rarely  goes  out 
with  her — he  doesn't  have  to;  she  can  do  business  better 
with  him  out  of  the  way-  It  is  embarrassing,  you  know,  just 
as  she  is  in  the  midst  of  a  peroration  descriptive  of  the  latest 
exploit  of  this  modern  Hippocrates,  to  have  the  dried-up, 
microcephalic,  weasened  little  animal  appear  in  evidence. 

"'Do  you  know,  ladies,  I  am  afraid  my  poor  doctor  is 
going-  to  work  himself  to  death?  Why,  he  was  out  three 
whole  nights  last  week,  and  didn't  have  a  wink  of  sleep!  A 


I 


"MY  DOCTOR  "    MAKES   A   CALL. 

prominent  lady  on  Michigan  avenue  (the  patient  is  always 
prominent  and  lives  on  Michigan  avenue,  or  Astor  street,  or 
in  some  equally  fashionable  locality)  had  an  attack  of  appen- 
dicitis, and  had  been  given  up  bv  jive  doctors  before  m\  doctor 
saw  her!  She  pulled  through,  but  my  doctor  says  that  if  the 
family  had  delayed  sending  for  him  just  thirty  minutes 
more — ! ' 

"  Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  my  boy,  I  once  overheard  this 
lady  in  the  midst  of  a  similar  yarn,  when  I  happened  to  know 


42  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

the  circumstances.  In  the  first  place,  that  doctor  couldn't 
lance  a  gum-boil  without  endangering1  the  internal  carotid, 
and  in  the  second  place,  those  three  nights  were  spent  in  dis- 
cussing the  relative  merits  of  'two pair'  and  'three of  a  kind.' 
He  did  make  several  calls — of  the  other  fellow's  hand,  you 
know — but  the  only  ladies  he  saw  were  a  choice  variety  of 
queens — hearts,  clubs,  spades,  and  diamonds.  They  didn't 
live  on  Michigan  avenue  either,  but  he  found  those  particular 
lady  patients  in  a  cosy  corner  of  the  M club! 

"  How  do  I  know? 

"Well,"  said  the  doctor,  his  eyes  gleaming  somewhat 
triumphantly,!  thought,  as  he  reflectively  caressed  a  fat  roll 
of  bills  that  he  took  from  a  corner  of  his  trousers  pocket, 
"a  little  bird  whispered  tome,''  and  deep  down  in  his  majestic 
beard  he  softly  whistled  an  air  from  'The  Lady  or  the  Tiger/ 
I  fancied  I  understood. 


"  Young  man,  when  you  do  marry,  train  your  wife  in  the 
way  she  should  go.  Let  her  go  to  one  church,  if  she  wants 
to,  for  worship  only,  not  for  revenue,  and  take  as  much  com- 
fort out  of  her  little  social  functions  as  she  pleases,  but  insist 
that  she  allude  to  you  as  '  my  husband. '  '  My  doctor '  this,  and 
'my  doctor'  that,  make  one  sick! 

"And  now,  you  know  the  kind  of  a  wife  you  dotft  want. 
If  you  can't  climb  the  ladder  of  fame  without  hanging  to 
your  wife's  apron  strings,  you  had  better  'blush  unseen,  and 
waste  your  fragrance  on  the  desert  air.' 

"  This  'new  woman'  business  is  not  going  to  help  us  out 
much  on  the  wife  question,  although  it  is  likely  to  solve  the 
problem  of  what  to  do  with  our  baggy,  half-worn  and  out-of- 
style — but  that's  a  different  matter,  and  possibly  an  unprofit- 
able subject.  I  don't  know  much  about  'the  new  woman' 
excepting  what  I've  read.  I  have  learned  to  speak  of  some  of 
her  in  feeling  terms  as  'It,'  but  that's  about  as  far  as  I  have 
gone.  'It'  is  still  a  delicate  subject,  despite  her  affectation 
of  masculinity. 

"But  I  must  be  careful  what  I  say,  even  upon  so  fresh  a 
topic  as  'the  new  woman,'  for  I  have  recently  discovered  that  I 
cannot  possibly  be  original. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  43 

"  My  little  daughter,  it  seems,  is  greatly  interested  in  my 
literary  work,  and  has  been  curious  to  know  howl  succeed  in 
spoiling-  so  much  nice  paper  in  so  short  a  time.  You  are 
aware  that  spoiling  paper  is  a  weakness  of  mine. 

"One  evening-  recently,  while  I  was  sitting-  at  my  desk 
with  a  number  of  books  of  reference  lying-  before  me,  in  the 
midst  of  a  desperate  attempt  to  write  a  speech  on  something 
I  knew  nothing- about,  in  response  to  some  'hurry  up'  toast  or 
other  to  be  given  at  a  medico-vaudeville  'feed,'  I  caught  her 
standing  at  my  elbow  watching  me  with  a  mingled  expression 
of  pity  and  triumph.  'Go  away,  dear,  papa's  busy  now,'  I 
said.  She  tiptoed  quietly  out,  and  a  few  moments  later  I 
heard  her  telling  her  young  auntie  that  she  now  knew  how 
her  papa  wrote  so  much.  She  said:  'These  stupid  doctors 
think  he  writes  it  every  bit  out  of  his  own  head,  but  he  doesn't; 
he  gets  it  all  out  of  books — e-v-e-r-y  word!  I  know  it,  for  I 
caught  him!' 

"  Dear  little  innocent!  What  man  has  thought  and  writ- 
ten, man  may  write.  What  man  hath  not  sown,  that  he  may 
not  reap. 

"  Is  it  not  healthful  to  have  our  bump  of  conceit  punctured 
a  bit  now  and  then?  We  know  there  is  nothing  new  under 
the  sun,  yet  how  often  do  we  acknowledge  it?  We  are  too 
busy  borrowing  the  product  of  other  people's  brains.  Still, 
Shakespeare,  Byron,  and  Milton  were  borrowers,  so  why  may 
not  we  little  fellows  follow  suit?  As  Pope  said,  'so-called 
invention  is,  of  necessity,  mere  selection.'— 

"But  we  have  forgotten   the  new  woman. 

"There  she  goes,  on  her  bike,  at  a  sixty-mile  clip!  My! 
but  isn't  she  swift?  See  her  bend  over  her  work!  She's 
around  the  corner  already! 

"Well,  let  her  go;  distance  lends  enchantment — if  she's 
not  too  stout;  but  a  dissolving  view  of  a  two-hundred-pound 
female  cyclist  is — well,  isn't  it? 

"But  be  she  thin  or  fat,  be  she  dark  or  passing  fair, 
things  may  not  be  just  what  they  seem.  Life  may  still  hold 
fair  hopes.  Charity  suffereth  long  and  is  kind- — honi  soit  qui 
mal  y  pense.  Bicycle,  or  fin  de  siecle,  or  both,  she  has  come — 
we  trust  not  to  tarry — unless  she  doffs  those  trousers. 


44 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"  Out  of  the  sombre,  misty  shadows  of  the  past,  a  pro- 
cession of  sweet-faced,  bonneted,  sorrowful  shades  come 
trooping — Priscilla,  Abigail,  Hope,  Dorothy,  Mary,  and  Jane! 
Why  have  you  come  back  to  earth  to  behold  these  whirling, 
scorching  burlesques — these  travesties  on  your  sex? 


OUT    OF    THE    SHADOWS    OF    THE    PAST. 

"We  weep  with  you,  oh  snowy-kerchiefed,  big-bonneted 
spirits  of  lovely  past  femininity!  Yet,  did  you  not,  in  your 
yearning  for  emancipation,  sow  some  of  the  seed  that  we  so 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  45 

sadly  reap?  Miss  Two-Thousand,  with  her  bike  and  bloom- 
ers, is  not  less  ornamental  than  you  were,  with  your  guns  and 
broomsticks — even  though  she  is  much  less  useful. 

"But  no  affectation  of  masculine  newness  will  ever 
radically  change  the  fair  sex.  As  Mrs.  Browning  so  beauti- 
fully said  of  George  Sand: 

'  True  genius,  but  true  woman,  dost  deny 
Thy  woman's  nature  with  a  manly  scorn, 
And  break  away  the  gauds  and  armlets  worn 
By  weaker  woman  in  captivity? 
Ah,  vain  denial!  that  revolted  cry, 
Is  sobb'd  in  by  a  woman's  voice  forlorn! 
Thy  woman's  hair,  my  sister,  all  unshorn, 
Floats  back  dishevelled  strength  in  agony, 
Disproving  thy  man's  name!  and  while  before 
The  world  thou  burnest  in  a  poet-fire, 
We  see  thy  woman-heart  beat  evermore 
Through  the  large  flame — 

"Come,  my  boy,  I'm  getting  entirely  too  sentimental!  If 
I  keep  on  at  the  rate  I  am  going,  I  will  soon  exhaust  all  my 
stock  of  borrowed  rhyme  and  be  compelled  to  improvise 
something  for  the  occasion,  and  that  would  be — well,  simply 
awful! 

"Let's  have  some  more  punch. — 

"What!  no  more?  Then  I  must  partake  of  'the  solitary 
cup,'  as  one  of  my  friends  expresses  it.— 

"Pshaw!  Who  could  think  of  the  new  woman,  or  any 
other  acid,  with  the  taste  of  that  exquisite  punch  in  his 
mouth? 

"But  I  may  as  well  finish  the  woman  question: 

"What  do  I  think  of  her  in  brief?— 

"Well,  my  wife  asked  me  that  same  question  yesterday 
at  dinner,  and  I  said,  '  My  dear,  the  old  woman  is  good  enough, 
smart  enough,  and  pretty  enough  for  mef  Whereat  she 
replied,  with  a  pretty  show  of  indignation: 

"'Think  you're  smart,  don't  you?  but  I'm  just  forty- 
eight,  thank  you!' — and  there  was  that  pretty  compliment 
lost  forever. 

"The  old  woman — I  mean  this  in  the  figurative,  not 
literal  sense — cannot  be  improved  upon.  The  only  attempt 


46 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


that  was  ever  made  to  bring  her  mind  up  to  date,  was  made 
by  the  Devil  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.  It  was  a  disaster  to  the 
human  race!  Now,  let  all 
modern  devils  take  warn- 
ing! I'm  for  the  woman 
of  yesterday,  the  woman 
of  to-day  and  the 
woman  of  to- 
morrow, just  as 
nature  made 
her,  sans  mas- 
culinity, sans 
bloomers — sans 
everything  that  mars  the  ideal  of  mother,  sister,  sweetheart, 
wife  and  daughter. 

And  now  I  am  sure  you  will  join  me  in  a  toast,  borrowed 
from  the  exquisite  rhymes  of  Edward  Coat  Pinkney  : 

'  I  fill  this  cup  to  one  made  up 

Of  loveliness  alone, 
A  woman,  of  her  gentle  sex 

The  seeming-  paragon; 
To  whom  the  better  elements 

And  kindly  stars  have  given 
A  form  so  fair,  that,  like  the  air, 

'Tis  less  of  earth  than  heaven. 

Her  every  tone  is  music's  own, 

Like  those  of  morning-  birds, 
And  something  more  than  melody 

Dwells  ever  in  her  words; 
The  coinage  of  her  heart  are  they, 

And  from  her  lips  each  flows 
As  one  may  see  the  burden 'd  bee 

Forth  issue  from  the  rose. 

Affections  are  as  thoughts  to  her, 

The  measure  of  her  hours; 
Her  feelings  have  the  fragrancy, 

The  freshness  of  young  flowers; 
And  lovely  passions,  changing  oft, 

So  fill  her,  she  appears 
The  image  of  themselves  by  turns, — 

The  idol  of  past  years! 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  47 

Of  her  bright  face  one  glance  will  trace 

A  picture  on  the  brain, 
And  of  her  voice,  in  echoing  hearts 

A  sound  must  long  remain; 
But  memory,  such  as  mine  of  her, 

So  very  much  endears, 
When  death  is  nigh  my  latest  sigh 

Will  not  be  life's,  but  hers. 

I  quaff  this  cup  to  one  made  up 

Of  loveliness  alone, 
A  woman,  of  her  gentle  sex 

The  seeming  paragon — 
Her  health !  and  would  on  earth  there  stood 

Some  more  of  such  a  frame, 
That  life  might  be  all  poetry, 

And  weariness  a  name. ' 

"Well,  I  declare!  if  I  haven't  allowed  my  hookah  to  go 
out! — and  I  am  by  no  means  certain  that  I  have  not  exhausted 
my  supply  of  tobacco. — Sure  enough,  the  jar  is  empty!" 

The  doctor  touched  his  bell  as  he  spoke,  and  in  answer 
to  the  summons,  Pete,  his  colored  servant,  appeared  at  the 
door  : 

"See  here,  Pete,  how  does  it  happen  that  I  am  out  of 
tobacco?  I  am  s-ure  I  had  a  good  quantity  of  Turkish  a  day 
or  two  since,  and  I  certainly  haven't  smoked  much  lately!' ' 

"Dunno,  Marse  Doctah,  p'raps  dar's  sum  er  lyin'  roun' 
summers.  I  done  spec  I'd  bettah  look  'roun',  sah,  an'  see  ef 
I  kin  fine  some." 

"I  'spec'  you  had  better  look  around,  you  ornery  black 
imp — and  be  sure  you  find  some  too,  or  there'll  be  a  serious 
accident  in  your  family!" 

As  Pete,  with  a  mock  expression  of  terror,  disappeared, 
the  doctor  said : 

"  There's  a  spoiled  nigger,  if  there  ever  was  one!  I  dare 
say  that  black  rascal  has  five  pounds  of  my  tobacco,  more 
or  less,  concealed  about  the  premises  somewhere.  He 
doesn't  mean  to  steal,  but  he  has  conceived  the  notion  that 
my  tobacco  is  sweeter  than  that  from  any  other  source — 
especially  if  he  filches  it.  His  hereditarily  predatory 
instincts  simply  come  to  the  surface  under  the  stimulus  of 
his  unholy  appetite  for  that  particular  brand  of  tobacco." — 


48  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"So,  you  succeeded  in  finding-  some,  did  you?  Well, 
seeing1  you  are  such  a  brilliant  success  as  a  commissary, 
I  deputize  you  to  attend  to  the  filling*  of  this  jar  to-morrow, 
and  see  that  you  don't  forget  it — unless  you  are  looking-  for 
serious  trouble!" 

Pete  looked  decidedly  shame-faced,  but  merely  said, 
"Yes,  Marse  Doctah,  dis  chile  '11  'membah  sho'  nuff!"  and 
disappeared. 

"Isn't  it  queer,  my  boy,  that  we  doctors  preach  so  vigor- 
ously against  the  tobacco  habit  and  yet  become  such  invet- 
erate smokers  ourselves? 

"Another  puzzling-  thing1  is  the  fact  that  one  gets  so 
wedded  to  some  particular  smoking-  apparatus,  that  no  sub- 
stitute ever  tastes  so  sweet.  Your  Irishman  smokes  his  old 
clay  pipe,  and  the  stolid  Dutchman  his  meerschaum;  the 
pipes  are  totally  unlike,  yet  each  is  ready  to  swear  that  his 
own  is  sweet  as  a  nut,  while  the  other  fellow's  is  positively 
offensive. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  I  first  became  addicted  to  the  luxury 
of  the  Turkish  pipe,  but  it  is  certain  that  nothing-  else  gives 
me  a  perfectly  satisfactory  smoke  now-a-days.  It  may  be 
imagination,  but  it  does  seem  as  though  the  smoke  that 
bubbles  up  through  the  rose-water  in  the  bowl  of  my  hookah 
is  laden  with  flowery  perfume,  and  free  from  all  heat  and 
acridity.  Is  not  the  fragrance  of  the  smoke  from  the  oriental 
pipe,  comparable  to  that  of  the  balmy  zephyrs  from  Araby 
that  we  read  about? 

"  When  I  have  put  on  my  Turkish  fez  and  gown,  drunk  a 
glass  of  that  incomparable  punch,  and  lighted  my  hookah,  I 
lie  back  in  my  comfortable,  stuffy  old  .chair,  and  am  as 
langourously,  dreamily,  pensively  happy  as  one  could  hope  to 
be  in  this  world.  All  my  ways  are  bliss,  and  all  my  paths  are 
peace! 

"  Did  I  but  sit  cross-legged  on  a  soft,  luxurious  mat,  I 
might  sing  with  all  the  fervor  of  an  ardent  devotee  of  the 
prophet,  'Would  I  Were  the  Sultan  Gay!'  I  need  naught  but 
the  voice  of  the  bul-bul — whatever  that  mav  be — and  a  dis- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


49 


solving-  view  of  the  gorgeous  interior  of  a  harem,  to  transport 

me  to  the  paradise  of  the  faithful. 

"And  I  am  attended  by  beautiful  slaves,  chief  among 

whom  are  Fancy,  Imagery,  and  Fantasy — slaves  who  fan  me 

with  perfumed  leaves, 
cool  my  brow  with 
scented  waters,  soothe 
me  with  soft,  sweet  lulla- 
bies,  and  paint  most 
beautiful  pic- 
tures  on  the 

0i^BMQMmR 

horizon    of 
my  hopes. 


'EVER  AND  ANON, 
MY  FAIRY  PLAYS   THE 
AMAZON." 


"Then  there  is  the  fairy  Nicotiana,  a  goddess  of  fair, 
yet  majestic  mien,  who  waves  her  golden  wand — an 
impenetrable  barrier  between  me  and  a  horde  of  howling 
devils,  lead  by  Carking  Care,  and  flanked  by  Regret,  Despair, 
Misgiving,  Discontent,  and  many  other  fierce  and  relentless 
demons! 

"  Ever  and  anon,  my  fairy  plays  the  amazon,  and,  with 
a  most  warlike  flourish  of  her  fair  white  hand,  drives  the  howl- 


SO  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

ing  horde  back  into  the  yawning"  hole  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  from  whence  they  came! 

"And  such  music  as  that  other  fairy,  Reverie,  brings! — 
None  but  the  exalted  sensibility  of  an  ear  attuned  by  the 
sensuous  thrilling  of  nicotine,  e'er  heard  strains  so  divinely 
sweet! 

"Sir  Walter  Raleigh — that  bloody,  bragging,  blustering 
old  swash-buckler — did  much  for  civilization  by  popularizing 
the  fragrant  leaf  of  the  Old  Dominion.  I  question  much 
whether  the  potato  has  fairly  held  its  own  in  the  race  with 
tobacco,  on  which  the  sturdy  old  cavalier  started  it.  It  is 
possible  that  Shakespeare  has  left  as  enduring  a  record  as  did 
Raleigh,  but  I  doubt  it.  Incense  is  at  this  moment  being 
offered  up  at  a  million  shrines  by  millions  of  devotees,  to  the 
memory  of  Sir  Walter  and  their  patron  saint- — the  goddess 
Nicotiana! 

"And  what  has  not  tobacco  done  for  literature?  Come, 
oh  toiling  slave  of  the  lamp,  and  bear  an  undeserving 
brother  testimony!  Whether  thou  hast  been  writing,  or  read- 
ing what  is  written,  hast  thou  not  drunk  of  the  waters  of 
inspiration  distilled  from  the  sweetly-pungent  tobacco  leaf? 
Hast  thou  not  inhaled  some  of  that  sacred  fire  that  burns 
upon  the  altar  erected  to  the  divine  Nicotiana? — hast  not 
inhaled  the  perfume  of  the  celestial  incense? 

"  How  true  the  words,  how  sweet  the  sentiment  of  Le 
Gallienne — 

'  With  pipe  and  book  at  close  of  day, 
Oh  what  is  sweeter,  mortal,  say? 
It  matters  not  what  book  on  knee, 
Old  Isaak  or  the  Odyssey; 
It  matters  not,  meerschaum  or  clay — 
And  though  our  eyes  will  dream  astray, 
And  lips  forget  to  sue  or  sway, 
It  is  enough  to  merely  be — 
With  pipe  and  book. 

What  though  our  modern  skies  be  gray, 
As  bards  aver?  I  will  not  pray 
For  soothing  death  to  succour  me, 
But  ask  this  much,  O  Fate,  of  thee, 
A  little  longer  yet  to  stay — 
With  pipe  and  book. ' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  51 

"  My  boy,  we  doctors  may  preach  against  tobacco  till 
doomsday,  but  the  precept  of  the  consultation  room  will 
never  accord  with  the  example  of  our  hours  of  ease  and 
relaxation. 

"But  doctors  are  human,  after  all — in  or  out  of  the  con- 
sultation room — and  it  is  possible  they  may  err  in  regard 
to  tobacco.  If  they  are  right  and  it  ts  injurious — well,  that 
simply  verifies  the  old  adage  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
'too  much  of  a  good  thing' — that's  all. 

"Do  you  know,  my  young  friend,  that  tobacco  contains 
the  whole  of  philosophy?  What  would  the  galley-slave  of 
the  garret  do  without  it?  How  many  wounded  spirits  it  has 
consoled — how  many  pangs  of  hunger  allayed! 

"When  caustic  critics,  with  a  jealous  eye, 

Your  best  work  smash  to  smithers — 
Or  the  dear,  stupid  public  will  not  buy, 
And  your  landlord  gives  you  shivers, 
Why, 

just 

smoke ! 

When  your  commutation  ticket's  run  out, 

Your  slate  broken  by  the  grocer, 
When  your  mind's  in  darksome  cruel  doubt 
If  you  can  pay  what  you  owe  sir, 
Why, 

just 

smoke ! 

When 


Why, 

just 

smoke ! 

"Oh  philosophy! — oh  stoicism! — oh  genius! — bow  down 
at  the  shrine  of  thine  airy,  bewitching,  volatile,  seductive, 
soothing,  enslaving,  aromatic,  spicy,  fantastic,  tutelary  god- 
dess— Nicotiana! " 


"  Speaking  of  doctors'  opinions,  I  heard  a  couple  of  good 
stories  the  other  day,  at  the  expense  of  a  very  eminent 
medical  gentleman  'way  down  in  Texas  : 

"A  jolly,  fat,  genial  and  lovable  old  medical  philosopher, 
dropped  in  at  the  office  of  a  certain  medical  editor — the 


52 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


victim  of  the  stories — and,  according-  to  the  latter,  descanted 
as  follows : 

'"Hudson,"  he  said  to  the  book-keeper — Hudson  was 
busily  engaged  in  footing-  up  the  expense  account  and  vainly 
attempting-  to  make  it  come  inside  of  receipts — I  was  laboring 
on  a  manuscript  that  would  have  discounted  Horace  Greeley's 
worst  specimen — the  proof-reader  was  writing-  a  love  letter- 
while  the  office  boy  was  whistling-  "  Henrietta — Have  You 
Met  Her?"  keeping-  time  by  a  tattoo  with  both  hands  and 
feet. 


"HAVEN'T  GOT  IT  ON  YOUR  BELLY,  HAVE  YOU,  SKAGGS?" 

'"Hudson,"  said  the  doctor,  "I've  g-ot  a  good  one  on 
Dan'els" — and  here  he  chuckled  till  the  shovel  and  tongs  and 
other  costly  office  furniture  rattled.  "You  know  Dan'els  is 
a  great  dermatologist— I  don't  think — got  a  big  reputation 
for  skin  diseases  down  at  the  Wallow,  any  way.  I've  got  a 
case  of  skin  trouble  down  there  that's  pestering  me,  and 
after  I  had  done  for  him  'bout  everything  I  knew,  I  brought 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  53 

him  up  here  to  consult  Dan'els.  I  thought  'twas  eczema,  and 
treated  it  as  such;  told  Dan'els  I  thought  so. 

'"Well,  the  patient — his  name  is  Skaggs;  he's  a  sorry- 
looking-  cuss — said  he'd  scratched,  an'  scratched,  till  he 
was  par'lyzed  in  both  arms.  The  fellow  rolled  up  his  sleeves 
and  britches  legs,  and  Dan'els  put  on  his  specs  and  examined 
the  fellow's  limbs  carefully— asking  him  some  questions. 
Then  he  raised  up,  and,  removing  his  eye-glasses,  said  very 
impressively,  in  that  grand  oracular  manner  he  has,  em- 
phasizing with  his  fore-finger — 

"It's  psoriasis,  doctor;  psoriasis  gyrata — a  well-marked 
case — a  bea-utiful  case?  You  see,  doctor,  the  distinguishing 
features  are — the  uniform  elevated  areas  of  infiltrated  tissue, 
the  enclosed  areas  of  sound  skin,  the  uniform  redness  and 
the  persistent  dryness;  but,  more  than  all — its  occurrence 
only  on  the  extensor  surfaces.  Now,  you  see,  doctor,  this 
man  has  it  on  the  extensors  of  the  arms  and  legs,  and  on  his 
back.  The  absence  of  it  on  the  breast  and  abdomen  shows — 
Here,  you" — turning  to  Skaggs,  "Never  had  it  on  your  belly, 
did  you,  Skaggs?" 

"'Belly  nuthin'!'  said  that  individual.  Why,  doc,  hit's 
all  over  me;  an"1  er  durned  sight  wuss  in  front  than  any  place 
else." 


'"Reminds  me,"  said  the  fat  and  happy  doctor,  con- 
tinuing, "of  my  old  partner,  Thompson — when  we  were  in 
practice  together  down  at  Hog  Wallow.  He  had  a  case  of 
chills  and  fever  that  gave  him  a  lot  of  trouble.  He  had  done 
for  it  about  all  he  could,  but  the  chills  wouldn't  stay  broke 
more'n  about  three  weeks.  One  day  we  were  sitting  in  the 
office,  smoking,  and  Thompson  was  telling  about  a  case  he 
had  cured  after  everybody  else  had  given  it  up — when  in 
comes  his  ague  case.  'Wall,  Doc.,'  says  he,  with  the  most 
woe-begone  expression,  'I  had  'nuther  one  o'  them  shakin' 
agers  yistidy!" 

"'Well,  Lorenzo,'  said  Thompson,  throwing  himself 
back  with  a  top-lofty  air,  and  sticking  his  thumbs  in  the  arm- 
holes  of  his  vest,  'I'll  tell  you  what  you  do. — You  know  that 
spring,  down  back  of  your  house?  The  run,  you  know, 


54 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


*WT*»- 


always   keeps    up    a 
big- damp  place  there; 
that's  the  cause  of  your  chills. 
It's  malaria,  you  see,  my  boy. 
Now,  you  plant  sunflowers  all 
along-  down  that  spring-  branch — sun- 
flowers absorb  all  the  malaria,  you 
know;  that'll  break  'em  up,  sure  pop; 
never  knew  it  to  fail ! ' 

'"Lor!  shucks,  Doc!'  said  Lor- 
enzo, with  a  cadaverous  smile,  ''that 
air  spring  rutis  been  growed  up  with 
them  durned  sunflowers  for  four  years 
an1  more — acres  an1  acres  of  'emf 

"  '  D n  it!'  said  Thompson — '•then 

cut  ''em  down  !  '  " 


"So,  you  really  must  be  going-! — Dear 
me!  it  is  quite  midnig-ht;  and  this  blooming 
hookah  is  dead  out  again!  But  you  mustn't 
stand  in  the  door;  it's  draughty,  and  besides, 
there  conies  your  car. 

"I  shall  expect  you  to  spend  an  evening 
with  me  some  time  next  week.     Call  me  up  by 
telephone  in  a  day  or  two,  and  I  will  make  a  definite  engage- 
ment with  you. 

"Good  night,  my  boy,  good  night." 


SEEING  THINGS, 


HOU  bringest  naught  but  calm  and  restful 

dreams, 
Peaceful  skies,  cloudless  fair  and  brightly 

blue, 

A  bed  of  blissful  indolence  that  seems 
Tho'  all  of  earth,  a  bit  of  heaven,  too, 
The  balmy  air  thou  fill'st  with  rare 

perfume 

Slumbrous  heavy  as  "the  poppy's  breath"- 
The  world  is  one  vast  garden, 

all  in  bloom; 

Thou  art  all  of  life  and  yet  of  death, 
Distilled,  thou  art  so  deadly  that 
indeed, 

I  wonder  that  I  love  thee, 
fragrant  weed, 


SUCCESS. 


SEEING  THINGS, 


O.  my  boy,  you  did  not  forget 
your    engagement.     I  am 
more  than  pleased  to  see  you, 
for  I  am    a  little    morbid 
to-night,  and,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  was  wondering  what 
particular  drug  in  my  medi- 
cine case  would  be    most  efficacious  in 
throwing  off  the  horrors. 

"But  I  fancy  your  cheery   company  and 
a  glass  of  '  hot  Scotch  '  will  be  a  better  tem- 
~~$^     porary  corrective  of  my  "  blue  funk  '  than  any 
nauseous  drug  would  have  been.     The  '  blues  '  often  simply 
mean  hepatic  laziness  anyhow;  I  am  sure  they  do  in  my  case. 
"Isn't  it  queer  that  our  happiness  in  this  world  depends 
so  largely  on  the  liver?     Thank  heaven,  we  don't  take  that 
organ  with  us  over  the  Styx! 
"Toxins,  you  say? 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know  that  '  toxaemia  '  is  the  latest  thing  when 
you  don't  know  just  what's  the  matter.  I  also  know  that 
your  teachers  have  little  faith  in  cholagogues,  but  I'll  tell  you 
one  thing,  young  man;  all  the  modern  folde  rol'm  the  world, 
cannot  alter  a  single  clinical  fact.  My  father  before  me  and 
my  father's  father  before  him  were  distinguished  prac- 
titioners of  medicine,  and  they  believed  in  calomel  as  does  a 
Christian  in  his  God. 

"When  one  of  their  patients  suffered  from  tediumvitae, 
or  the  blues,  they  didn't  prate  of  any  sort  of  '<£?«/«, 'but 
said:  'Humph!  malaise — sluggish  liver!' — and  ordered  blue 
pill,  followed  by  a  saline. 


60  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Possibly  the  liver  was  not  at  fault,  as  they  supposed, 
and  granting-  that  it  was,  perhaps  the  blue  pill  and  saline 
were  not  the  scientific  remedies,  but,  nevertheless,  the  treat- 
ment cleared  the  tongue,  sweetened  the  breath,  brightened 
up  the  spirits,  and  primped  up  the  digestion — making-  life 
worth  living-  once  more.  I  tell  you  what,  my  boy,  some  of 
your  new-fang-led  notions  are — pshaw!  you  don't  want  me 
to  flounder  about  in  that  particular  quag-mire — at  least  not 
to-nig-ht. 

"  Chang-ed  my  beverag-e? 

"N — o,  not  exactly.  My  wife  is  away  on  a  visit  to  a 
sick  neig-hbor,  and  as  she  knows  better  than  to  trust  me  with 
the  formula  of  my  favorite  punch,  I  have  been  compelled  to 
shift  for  myself. 

"Discreet  woman! — She  is  afraid  that  a  knowledge  of  the 
composition  of  that  punch  might  have  the  same  effect  on  me 
that  learning  the  method  of  making  mint  juleps  had  upon  a 
poor  old  negro  down  south.— 

"A  Kentucky  gentleman  was  once  traveling  on  horseback 
through  the  South.  While  he  was  riding  along  a  lonely  road 
in  Alabama,  one  warm  afternoon,  he  bethought  him  of 
refreshment.  As  he  was  traveling  for  his  health,  he  happened 
to  have  a  flask  of  excellent  whisky  with  him — although  not  a 
physician,  he  was  familiar  with  the  '  ounce  of  prevention  ' 
and  knew  enough  to  be  fashionable. 

"Noticing  a  little  'shack'  by  the  side  of  the  road,  the 
idea  occurred  to  him  that  a  little  cold  water  on  the  side 
might  add  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  anticipated  drink.  As  he 
rode  up  to  the  tumble-down  shanty,  his  nostrils  were  greeted 
with  a  pungent,  familiar  odor  that  made  his  mouth  water — he 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  luxuriant  bed  of  mint. 

"Standing  at  the  door  of  the  cabin  was  an  old  darky — a 
relic  of  '  'fo'  de  war'.'  Our  traveler  accosted  him : 

"  '  Hallo!  uncle;  how  are  you?  ' 

"  '  Howdy,  sah?  Howdy?  I'se  right  po'ly,  sah,  thankee, 
sah.' 

"  '  Do  you  live  here,  uncle?  ' 

"  *  Yes,  sah,  praise  de  Lawd! ' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  61 

" '  Well,  what  do  you  do  with  that  green  stuff  in  your 
front  yard?  ' 

"  '  Fo'  de  Lawd,  marster!  doan'  do  nuffin  wid  it,  sah,  jes' 
nuffin  'tall,  sah.  Hit's  too  bad  ter  hab  dat  stuff  in  de  front 
yahd,  sah,  but  we  all  ain'  got  no  time  fo'  ter  pull  up  de  weeds, 
sah,  'deed'n  we  ain';  'sides,  nobody  keers  how  de  weeds  grow 
'roun'  hyah.  'Tain'  like  de  good  ole  times  on  de  plantashun. 
Fo'  de  Lawd,  honey!  dar  wuzn't  no  weeds  'bout  dar! ' 

"'Look  here,  uncle,  we  Kentucky  folks  seem  to  be  a 
trifle  better  posted  on  wet  g-oods  than  yourself,  and,  as  I  am 
something  of  a  philanthropist,  I'll  be  an  itinerant  dispensary 
for  your  benefit,  and  convert  just  one  heathen  before  I  die.' 

"By  this  time  the  old  darky's  eyes  were  protruding-  so 
that  they  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a  couple  of  big  black 
and  white  plums.  If  there  is  anything  in  the  universe  that  a 
darky  likes  better  than  ''possum  an'  sweet  kyarlinas,'  it  is 
incomprehensibly  big  words. 

" '  Here's  a  quarter  for  you,  uncle;  now  fly  around  and 
get  me  a  little  sugar  and  a  cup  of  water! ' 

"  The  old  man  hustled  about  and  finally  managed  to  get 
the  desired  articles  together.  Meanwhile  the  traveler  had 
collected  a  quantity  of  the  heavenly  weed.  The  sugar  was 
evidently  of  the  sorghum  variety,  but  the  water  was  cold, 
and  our  wayfarer  thirsty,  hence  the  resultant  julep  was 
hardly  open  to  criticism. 

"Having  refreshed  himself,  the  traveler  made  a  good 
stiff  julep  for  his  darky  friend,  who  drank  it,  cautiously  at 
first,  but  finally  with  such  tremendous  gulps  that  the  gentle- 
man cautioned  him  that  he  might  want  to  use  the  cup  again. 

"  '  Fo'  de  Lawd,  honey!  dat's  sweeter'n  de  honey  in  de 
comb!  Praise  de  Lawd,  dat  yo'  done  come  diser  way,  sah! 
Praise  de  Lawd! ' 

"  '  That's  all  right,  uncle,  I'm  glad  you  like  it.  And  now 
I  must  be  riding  on.  Tell  me  your  name,  for  I  might  come 
by  this  way  again  some  day.' 

"  '  Ma  name's  Julius,  marster.' 

" '  Well,  good-bye,  Julius,  and  don't  forget  how  to  make 
a  mint  julep.' 


62  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'Deed'n  I  won't,  marster!  Good-bye,  sah,  g-ood-bye, 
an'  de  Lawd  bress  yo',  honey  !'- 

"About  a  year  later,  our  traveler  happened  to  be  in 
Alabama  again,  and  riding  along1  that  same  dusty,  lonesome 
road.  Coming  in  sight  of  the  little  cabin,  he  suddenly 
remembered  his  friend  Julius — and  the  mint  bed.  The 


recollection  was  so  thirst-producing-  that  he  turned  aside  and 
approached  the  shanty.  As  he  rode  toward  it,  he  noted  a 
desolation  as  complete  as  in  the  wake  of  a  cyclone.  The 
mint  bed  looked  as  thoug-h  it  had  been  left  out  all  nig-ht  in  a 
prairie  fire,  while  the  shanty  was  in  a  condition  of  repair  that 
should  have  shamed  a  Georgia  '  cracker,'  to  say  nothing  of  a 
self-respecting  old  negro  squatter. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  63 

"Sitting-  on  the  stone  that  served  for  a  front  door-step, 
and  leaning  lazily  against  the  door,  which  had  partially  fallen 
from  its  hinges,  was  a  decrepit  old  darky.  Beside  him  were 
a  demijohn,  a  cup,  a  pewter  spoon  and  a  few  scraggly,  sun- 
burned heads  of  mint.  The  old  man's  face  was  pitiful  to 
behold,  and,  taken  altogether,  he  was  as  abject  a  specimen  of 
physical  decay  and  intellectual  demoralization  as  our  traveler 
had  ever  seen. 

"  '  Hallo  there,  uncle!  Can  you  tell  me  whether  a  colored 
man  named  Julius  lives  here?  ' 

"  '  No,  marster;  Julius  doan'  lib  nowhar'  no  mo',  sah.' 

"  '  Why,  how's  that,  uncle?  ' 

"  '  Well,yo'  see,  marster,  Julius  he's  dead.' 

"  '  Dead!     Why,  what  was  the  matter  with  him?  ' 

" '  Wuzn't  nuffin  'tall  de  mattah  ob  him,  sah,  jes'  nuffin 

'tall.  Dar  wuz  er  d d  Kentucky  fellah  done  come  'long 

hyah  'bout  er  yeah  ergo  an'  done  teached  Julius  ter  mix  grass 
wid  his  whisky,  sah,  dat's  all! 

"  'Julius  he's  done  gone  dead  fo'  mo'n  six  monfs,  an'  jes' 
look  at  me,  sah  !  jes'  look  at  me !  De  ole  man  ain'  got  long  ter 
lingah,  sah.  Julius'  done  dead — an'  dis  yen  is  de  las'  o'  de 
mint! ' 

"Stricken  with  remorse,  the  traveler  turned  his  horse's 
head  away  from  the  desolate  cabin,  and  musingly  rode  on. 
As  he  passed  the  foot  of  a  grassy  incline  just  beyond  the 
gate,  he  saw  at  a  little  distance  a  mound  of  earth  and  a  white 
wooden  slab  that  he  did  not  remember  having  seen  before.— 

"  'Poor  Julius! '  said  he,  half  aloud.  'A  little  knowledge 
is,  indeed,  a  dangerous  thing.  The  fates  were  against  thee, 
it  seems,  for  thou  didst  deeply  drink  of  the  Pierean  spring. 
It  has  ever  been  thus,  that  the  onward  march  of  civilization 
hath  carried  desolation  in  its  wake! — I  came,  "not  to  destroy 
the  law,  nor  yet  the  prophets,  but  to  fulfill" — and  I  have 
fulfilled  the  full  measure  of  thy  destiny,  oh  ebon-hued  child 
of  nature!' 

"'But  thou  hast  found  rest.  The  yelping  of  the  'coon 
dog,  and  the  plaintive  snarl  of  the  fatted  'possum  disturb 
thee  not! — That  grim  and  uncanny  ghoul  called  "Work-in- 
the-field  "  no  longer  haunts  thee,  like  a  hideous  nightmare! — 


64 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


The  hoe-cake  and  hominy  will  nevermore  give  thee  qualms,  as 
of  vague  unrest! — Oft  hadst  thou  gazed  upon  the  festive 
apple-jack  when  the  first  letter  of  its  spelling  was  a  capital  J. — 
'E'en  whisky  straight  and  barrel-lobbed  rum,  ne'er  ruffled 
thy  Senegambian  nerve! — But  thou  didst  succumb  at  last, 
before  the  nectar  of  old  Kaintuck! ' 

'"Remorseful  though  I  be,  oh  Afric's  stricken  son,  yet 
do  I  console  me  with  the  thought  that  I  did  fill  thy  soul  with 


A   DANGEROUS    BOTANICAL    STUDY. 

joy,  and  lead  thee  into  Canaan  as  'twere  with  a  fairy  wand! — 
All  thy  paths  were  peace  and  thy  dying  couch  a  bed  of  roses! ' 

"  '  Vale  Julius!  May  thy  death  be  a  warning  to  thy  race! 
Education  is  a  failure  and  the  study  of  botany  is  ruinl '  * 

"I  presume  that  the  traveler  in  the  story  was  himself, 
ignorant  of  some  beverages.  If  he  had  known  the  beauties 
of  'hot  Scotch,'  he  would  have  congratulated  Julius  on  his 
prospects  'obah  de  ribbah.'  It  is  so  consoling,  you  know,  to 
feel  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  adaptation  of  beverages  to 
climate. — 


*  The  original  incident  on  which  this  story  was  based,  was  told  many  years  ago 
by  Col.  Will  L.  Visscher.  I  trust  the  above  story  has  done  the  darky  who  died  of 
"whisky  and  greens"  full  justice. — AUTHOR. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  65 

"Do  you  know,  my  boy,  something-  you  asked  me  about 
morphia,  in  the  quiz  the  other  day,  reminded  me  of  a  little 
story  that  may  interest  you  as  a  student  of  science? — 

"  Many  years  ago,  when  I  was  a  young  student  of  medi- 
cine, I  acquired  a  taste  for  experimentation  upon  myself  with 
drugs.  The  result  was,  after  a  time,  the  acquirement  of  a 
marked  degree  of  tolerance — sufficient  to  lead  me  to  regard 
certain  narcotics  with  more  or  less  contempt — born  of 
familiarity. 

"  Such  a  thing  as  the  formation  of  a  drug  habit,  appeared 
to  me  perfectly  ridiculous.  No  man  of  sound  will  or  healthy 
judgment,  I  thought,  could  possibly  become  addicted  to  the 
use  of  any  drug — however  pleasant  its  effects. 

"With  a  confidence  born  of  experience,  and  fed  by 
youthful  blood,  with  its  superabundance  of  red  corpuscles,  I 
even  went  so  far  as  to  apply  this  argument  to  the  master  of 
all  drugs,  aye — to  that  master  of  all  men — King  Alcohol! 

"I  am  long  since  past  the  zenith  of  life,  my  boy,  and  my 
career  has  been  what  the  world  calls  a  successful  one — 
although,  to  my  mind,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  'a  successful 
man;'  but  I  firmly  believe  that  my  over-weening  self-con- 
fidence was  a  handicap  in  the  battle  of  life,  that  good  luck 
alone  prevented  from  wrecking  me  on  the  way. 

"  Why  do  I  not  believe  in  a  successful  career? 

"Because,  my  dear  sir,  success  is  not  to  be  measured  by 
the  opinion  of  the  world,  but  by  the  standard  of  our  own 
ambition.  Ambition  ever  o'er-aims  the  mark  it  strikes.  The 
world  sees  what  we  hit,  and  realizes  only  such  meagre  results 
as  we  actually  attain;  it  sees  not  that  glorious  moon  which  is 
the  real  target  of  our  ambition,  and  we,  looking  past  the  poor, 
pitiful  result  that  the  world  applauds,  see  naught  but  that 
beauteous  prize  which  is  ever  beyond  our  reach. 

"And  so>  the  '  successful  man '  fills  the  measure  of  his 
years  with  ungratified  longings,  and,  when  the  scene  closes, 
it  is  still  moonlight;  then  we  bury  him,  and  write  eulogies  of 
him,  and  take  up  a  subscription  for  his  family,  while  above 
his  grave  the  silver  moon  of  his  ambition  shines  on — and  will 
forever  shine! 


66  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"And  so  the  procession  of  ambitious  fools  and  'successful 
men  '  goes  on  and  on,  with  eyes  upon  the  brilliant  goal,  while 
other  graves  are  being  filled — with  yet  other  fools. 

"Ah  me!  the  '  successful  man  '  of  to-day  is  but  a  modern 
Moses  on  the  highest  peak  of  a  Pisgah  of  hope,  gazing  at  the 
skeletons  of  the  unnumbered  millions  who  have  fallen  in  the 
climbing,  littering  the  valley  of  life  with  their  weary,  broken 
bones. 

"Verily,  thou  'successful  man,'  thou  shalt  see  the  Canaan 
of  thine  ambition  from  afar — but  shalt  not  possess  it!  The 
silver  moon  of  thy  desires  shines  brightest  from  the  mountain 
top  of  thy  '  success  ' — but  'tis  there  it  shines  coldest  and  far- 
thest from  thy  reach.  Do  but  attempt  to  grasp  it,  and  thine 
own  crackling  bones  shall  go  thundering  down  to  join  the 
bones  of  the  fools  that  lie  below!  Stand  still,  and  thou  wilt 
either  round  out  thy  span  of  life  in  lonely  solitude,  or  be 
pushed  into  space,  by  the  horde  of  hungry  imbeciles  that  are 
crowding  up  so  ravenously  beneath  thee. 

"Jump,  poor  fool! — Trust  to  the  Icarus-like  pinions  of 
thine  ambition! — The  moon  will  not  melt  thy  wings,  but  the 
realization  of  the  much  hackneyed  and  shop-worn  '  sickening 
thud,'  will  be  a  surprise  unto  thee! — 

"Pardon  my  rambling  digression,  my  lad;  you  must 
learn  to  tolerate  my  little  idiosyncrasies.  I  am  not  much  of 
a  talker  at  best,  and  I  must  be  allowed  to  follow  my  own 
devious  paths  of  heterogeneous  maundering  or  I  can't  talk  at 
all.  My  mind  is  much  like  a  spoiled  child,  it  has  passed 
'  through  the  correctionary  and  into  the  confectionery  period.' 
It  can  be  coaxed  to  perform,  but  severe  measures  make  it 
more  refractory  and  stubborn.  If  you  should  try  to  make 
me  talk  in  your  way,  the  result  would  probably  be  like  that 
obtained  by  the  lady  who  said  she  didn't  believe  in  punishing 
children. — She  claimed  she  'had  Johnny  at  the  photographer's, 
the  other  day,  and  whipped  him  seven  times,  to  make  him  look 
pleasant,  but  it  didn't  work  at  all — the  proof  was  a  perfect 
fright! ' 

"As  I  was  saying,  in  my  early  experience  in  medicine,  I 
had  no  faith  in  the  view  that  there  could  be  any  possible 
danger  in  taking  narcotics — if  the  taker  were  level-headed 


68  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

and  physically  fitted  for  survival.  I  had  heard  much  of  the 
demoralization  and  depravity  resulting-  from  opium  and 
alcohol,  but  believed  that  these  drug's  were,  after  all,  benefi- 
cent in  weeding-  out  the  unfit. 

"Alas!  I  saw  before  me  only  the  broad,  beautiful  stream 
of  life,  with  its  flowery  banks  and  silvery  sheen  in  the  sun- 
lig-ht  of  youthful  hope  and  anticipation — I  heard  only  the 
rippling1,  joyous  laug-hter  of  dancing-  waters — I  heard  not 
the  roar  of  the  cataract,  farther  down  the  stream,  nor  the 
cries  of  the  endless  procession  of  the  over-confident  who  were 
toppling-  over!  I  saw  not  the  wreckage,  the  flotsam  and  jetsam 
of  feeble  wills  and  still  feebler  resolutions,  strewn  along  the 
shoals  just  beneath  the  flowery  banks! — 

"There  I  g-o  again!  You  had  best  bring-  an  anchor  with 
you  hereafter,  or  I  may  drift  away  from  you  altogether! — 

"Habit!— I? 

"Oh  no,  but  I  have  been  near  enough  to  realize  the 
danger!  Many  a  young  doctor,  and,  for  that  matter,  many  an 
old  one,  has  allowed  his  little  hypodermic  syringe  to  become 
much  too  prominent  in  his  drama  of  life  on  some  occasions. 
I  assure  you  that  doctors  are  more  often  thrown  in  danger's 
way  than  other  men.  I  served  my  apprenticeship  with 
the  tempter,  and  it  resulted  in  my  becoming  master — and 
master  will  1  remain  to  the  end  — but  it  might  have  been  the 
other  way.  It  has  gone  the  other  way  with  more  doctors  than 
the  world  has  ever  dreamed  of  ;  morphino-maniacs,  like  drug- 
store drunkards,  are  not  infrequent  among  medical  men,  who 
are  but  human  and  often  sorely  tempted.  The  proportion  of 
those  who  fall  is  not  large,  it  is  true,  but  is  great  enough  to 
justify  my  warning. 

"I  cannot  say  that  I  ever  really  became  habituated  to  the 
use  of  narcotics,  but,  as  I  have  already  intimated,  I  did  lose 
respect  for  them,  and  was  inclined  to  make  personal  use  of 
such  remedies  on  occasions  when  it  might  possibly  have  been 
avoided. — Thereby  hangs  the  particular  tale  which  I  am  about 
to  relate  to  you:" 

"  Many  years  ago,  while  living  in  New  York  City  during 
my  term  of  service  as  a  hospital  'externe'  before  graduation, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  69 

I  became  subject  to  attacks  of  neuralgia  involving-  the  fifth 
nerve.  You  know  how  perfectly  agonizing  this  affliction  may 
be.  My  attacks  seemed  to  be  especially  severe — without 
being  so  in  fact,  perhaps,  for  young  doctors  are  always 
inclined  to  magnify  their  own  ailments — and  nothing  but 
morphia  seemed  to  relieve  me.  I  will  frankly  confess,  how- 
ever, that  I  by  no  means  tried  all  of  the  analgesics  in  the 
pharmacopoea,  before  resorting  to  the  lullaby  drug. 

"  Morphia  did  not  seem  to  have  any  untoward  effects 
upon  me,  yet  I  soon  discovered  that  it  required  a  very  large 
amount  to  secure  the  desired  result — the  necessity  for  a  grad- 
ual increase  in  the  dose  finally  becoming  decidedly  apparent. 

"  But  I  still  saw  no  reason  why  I  should  not  increase  the 
dose  as  the  symptoms  demanded.  You  see,  I  gave  myself 
the  benefit  of  a  principle  taught  by  a  dear  old  teacher  of  mine, 
many  years  ago.  The  old  man  used  to  say:  'Gentlemen, 
however  scanty  our  resources  may  be  in  the  treatment  of 
disease,  there  is  one  blessing  that  we  are  always  able  to 
confer  upon  suffering  humanity — we  can,  and  should,  control 
pain!' 

"The  kind  old  philosopher's  reasoning  may  have  brought 
solace  to  his  own  death-bed — he  died  of  cancer! 

"  During  one  of  my  most  severe  attacks  of  '  tic  '  I  deemed 
it  advisable  to  remain  quietly  in  bed.  My  chum,  who,  like 
myself,  had  not  yet  graduated,  but  was  a  junior  student  and 
consequently  willing  to  concede  my  authority,  at  least  in  my 
own  case,  gave  me,  at  my  solicitation,  a  large  dose  of  morphia, 
then,  writh  wishes  for  my  speedy  recovery,  left  me  and  went 
to  college. 

"Within  a  very  short  time  I  realized  that  the  dose  I 
had  taken  was  not  likely  to  accomplish  the  desired  result.  I 
therefore  concluded  to  take  another.  My  hypodermic  was 
conveniently  near,  and  I  had  plenty  of  morphine  in  stock,  so, 
to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  I  took  a  double  quantity. 

"A  few  minutes  later,  things  began  to  look  queer. 
According  to  precedent,  I  should  have  gone  to  sleep,  but  I  not 
only  did  not,  but  could  not  when  I  tried!  That's  the  way 
morphia  acts  with  some  people,  you  know.  We  say  it's  the 
result  of  idiosyncrasy  or  personal  peculiarity,  but  when  we 


70 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


are  pinned  down  to  facts,  we  can  only  use  some  more  big 
words,  that  serve  to  make  our  ignorance  still  more  evident. 

"  For  some  reason,  I  found  myself  continually  staring 
at  the  mantel-piece.  Now,  there  was  nothing-  about  that 
part  of  the  room  that  was  particularly  interesting-;  it  was 
an  ordinary  boarding--house  mantel-piece,  made  out  of  some 
left-over-from-grandpa's-monument  marble.  The  customary 
orthodox  g-arnishments  of  an  immodest  little  terra-cotta 
Cupid  and  a  gaudy  plaster-of-paris  soldier,  at  either  end  of 
the  mortuary  relic,  stood  gazing  fishily  into  space  with  their 
usual  calm  and  dignified  reserve. 


"It  so  happened,  however,  that  some  weeks  before,  I  had 
decorated  the  centre  of  the  gruesome  slab  with  a  couple  of 
skulls.  One  of  these  gems  of  virtu  was  the  skull  of  a  defunct 
Chinaman — the  other  being  that  of  a  new-born  babe,  that  I 
had  secretly  prepared  in  the  attic  of  my  boarding-house. 
Strange  to  say,  the  far  more  awesome  statuettes  upon  the 
mantel  did  not  interest  me;  my  attention  was  concentrated 
upon  the  skulls!  They  were  beautiful  specimens,  it  is  true, 
yet  I  was  not  in  a  frame  of  mind  to  appreciate  their  many 
good  points.  Possibly  I  was  fascinated  by  the  conceit  that 
the  parties  of  whom  they  were  relics  couldn't  have  tic  dolo- 
retix — they  didn't  have  nerve  enough  and  /  did!  Their 
Gasserian  ganglia  were  a  minus  quantity,  while  mine  were 
ultra  plus — with  accent  on  the  plus!  Obviously,  those  people 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  71 

couldn't  luxuriate  in  morphia — I  had  'em  there!  For  once,  I 
was  the  bright  particular  star  of  the  occasion  and  the  other 
players  must  needs  play  minor  parts. — 

"  So  absorbing-  did  the  contemplation  of  the  skulls  become, 
that  I  found  myself  gazing  upon  them  with  a  feeling  akin  to 
fascination — I  really  became  quite  sociably  inclined  toward 
them,  and  I  fancied  the  larger  skull  had  a  reciprocal  expres- 
sion in  his  cavernous  orbits,  while  his  little  companion  seemed 
childishly  gleeful. 

"I  was  on  the  point  of  opening  a  conversation  with  the 
senior  skull,  but,  upon  reflection,  refrained.  The  gentleman 
of  osseous  mould  might  have  considered  that  I  was  taking  an 
unfair  advantage  of  him;  his  opportunities  for  travel  and 
observation  had  been  somewhat  limited,  since  he  had  passed 
into  my  society  via  the  dissecting-room  and  kettle.  To  be 
sure,  he  might  have  talked  about  himself,  but  I  doubt  not 
that  he  knew  some  matters  of  personal  history,  that  it  would 
have  been  indelicate  to  listen  to — I  mean,  of  course,  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  police  bureau.  The  social  purist  would 
doubtless  have  heard  nothing  objectionable — the  admixture 
of  a  liberal  quantity  of  chloride  of  lime  in  the  fluid  in  which 
the  skull  had  been  boiled,  had  certainly  removed  everything 
suggestive  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil — and  yet,  he 
may  have  conducted  an  opium  joint  at  some  time  or  other. 

"  To  be  sure,  my  weird  friend  and  companion  might  have 
spoken  of  his  young  comrade,  who  was  far  too  young  to  know 
much,  or  care  anything  for  the  feelings  of  his  family.  But 
the  elder  skull  had  probably  learned  a  thing  or  two  during 
his  somewhat  eventful  career,  and  had  doubtless  learned  still 
more  since  he  had  become  un  bon  camarade  of  a  couple  of 
rollicking  young  medicine  men.  He  certainly  realized  that 
accidents  will  happen  in  the  best  regulated  families,  and  he 
well  knew  that  obstetrics  and  secrecy  go  hand  in  hand. 
Besides,  supposing  his  young  friend  did  happen  to  know  a 
wee  bit  of  the  world  and  had  developed  a  hyperaesthetic 
sensibility? 

"Then,  too,  the  Chinese  gentleman  might  have  talked 
'Pigeon  English' — a  language  with  which  I  was  not  especially 
familiar. 


72  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"No — obviously  it  would  not  do  to  enter  into  conversation 
with  my  mortuary  friends,  unless  they  themselves  assumed 
the  responsibility  and  began  it! 

"But  my  ghastly  companions  and  I  stared  at  each 
other  until  I  had  a  tired  feeling-  in  my  head,  and  fancied 
that  even  they  turned  their  ball-less  orbits  away  in  some 
embarrassment. 

"  Such  is  the  power  of  the  human  eye,  that  one  can  stare 
even  a  skull  out  of  countenance — and,  by  the  way,  a  skull  is 
excellent  to  practice  upon. 

"  I  give  this  gratuitous  hint  for  the  benefit  of  that  remark- 
able degenerate  freak  of  the  genus  homo  known  as  the 
'masher.'  It  might  be  well  for  him  to  use  skulls  in  his  pro- 
fession, as  a  staple  addition  to  his  stock  in  trade.  I  can 
recommend  them — they  can't  talk  back,  and  what  is  especially 
consoling1,  they  can't  tell  a  policeman,  or  set  the  dog"  on  you, 
or  poke  you  in  the  eye  with  an  umbrella;  and  they  haven't  any 
husbands,  or  fathers,  or  big1  brothers,  with  such  a  lack  of 
respect  for  harmless  flirtations,  and  such  disproportionately 
big",  cruel  fists  and  double-soled  boots! 

"  Have  a  skull  with  me,  'Cholly!'  They're  nevah  wude, 
you  know. — 

"  You're  more  than  welcome,  deah  boy.— 

"Speaking  of  the  civility  of  skulls,  what  a  jolly  com- 
panion the  cranial  remains  of  a  defunct  scold  would  be  to  her 
once  hen-pecked  husband!  Since  cremation  came  into  vogue, 
we  have  heard  much  of  the  widow  who  puts  papa's  ashes  in 
a  vase  on  the  mantel  along  with  the  other  bric-a-brac.  It  is 
so  easy  for  the  sweetly-mournful  lady  to  satisfy  her  conscience 
by  supplying  an  elegant  receptacle  for  the  dear  departed  - 
then, too,  he  is  so  ornamental  in  his  new  quarters! 

"  Should  the  bereaved  one  marry  again,  a  small  quantity 
of  ashes  thrown  in  the  eyes  of  'number  two,'  from  time  to 
time,  wins  his  respect  and  loyalty  and  gives  him  a  due  appre- 
ciation of  the  many  irritating  virtues  of  'number  one.'- 

"  But  a  skull!  Why,  cremation  is  nowhere  beside  careful 
cranial  preparation! 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


73 


"With  what 
tender  sentiment 
could  the  sorrow- 
ing fair  one  point 
to  the  many  and 
sterling  virtuesof 
him  she  mourns 
so  grievously — 
and  with  what 
placid  resigna- 
tion might  a  sor- 
rowing husband 

regard  the  bony  case  that  once  confined  the  soul  of   his 
lamented  Xantippe! 

"Then,  too,  think  of  the  subject  from  a  strictly  utilitarian 
standpoint.  When  sawn  across  and  carefully  hinged,  a  well 
prepared  skull  makes  the  nicest  tobacco  box  imaginable; 
while,  if  detached,  the  calvarium  is  a  convenient  and  most 
aesthetic  drinking  cup.  Should  a  sorrowing  widow  be  fond 
of  pets,  she  might  use  her  departed  partner's  brain-pan  as 
a  nest  for  white  mice,  or  a  bath-tub  for  her  canary  birds,  or 
something  of  that  kind. 

"But  I  fear  my  plan  will  never  become  popular,  so  I  will 
refrain  from  giving  you  the  thousand-and-one  other  argu- 
ments in  its  favor. 

"But  to  return  to  the  particular  skulls  that  stood  on  my 
mantel : 

"As  I  lay  back  upon  my  pillow,  watching  my  usually 
dignified  friends,  I  fancied  the  younger  one  wTas  wagging 
its  toothless  jaws  at  me.  Not  being  possessed  of  a  vivid 
imagination  I  was  at  first  somewhat  surprised  at  this  phen- 
omenon, but,  subsequently  recalling  the  morphia  I  had  taken, 
was  not  especially  disquieted. 

"After  my  little  friend  had  made  a  fewmore  faces  at  me, 
however,  I  concluded  I  had  best  look  the  other  way,  so 
resolutely  turned  my  face  toward  the  wall,  and  tried  to  sleep. 
Click!  click!  click!  as  of  the  snapping  of  bones,  came  from 
the  direction  of  the  mantel. 


74  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"All  ideas  of  repose  now  left  me,  and,  realizing1  that 
morphia  had  no  license  to  give  me  aural  as  well  as  visual 
hallucinations,  I  sat  up  in  bed  and  somewhat  critically 
inspected  my  infantile  tormentor. 

"Click!  click!  snap!  That  blooming-  skull  actually  ivas 
in  motion  and  distinctly  snapping  its  hideous  jaws  at  me! 

"As  thoug-h  desirous  of  giving1  me  a  little  variety,  the 
skull  now  chang-ed  its  performance,  and  beg-an  rocking1  and 
rolling-  from  side  to  side,  like  a  drunken  sailor,  rattling- 
ag-ainst  its  g-hastly  companion  and  dancing-  hilariously  about 
on  the  mantel,  with  a  sound  like  castanets! 

"I  did  not  recog-nize  the  steps ;  I  was  rusty,  you  know, 
but  could  plainly  discern  a  painfully  labored  effort  to  jig-. 

"Whatever  the  skull  was  attempting-  to  do,  it  proved  to 
be  a  capital  entertainer,  and  no  vaudeville  star  ever  secured 
such  undivided  attention.  You  have  perhaps  seen  an  audi- 
ence rise  in  responsive  appreciation  of  a  decided  hit- — well, 
my  hair  enacted  the  role  of  audience  to  perfection. 

"After  reasoning-  the  matter  over  for  a  while,  I  ag-ain  fell 
back  upon  the  morphia  theory,  feig-ned  indifference — thoug-h 
I  was  in  a  cold  perspiration  the  while — and  once  more  turned 
my  back  upon  my  troubles. 

"But  the  skull  evidently  objected  to  my  lack  of  socia- 
bility, for  it  beg-an  dancing-  more  vig-orously  than  ever.  So 
emphatically  did  it  protest  ag-ainst  my  indifference,  that  I  was 
by  no  means  surprised  when  the  bony  little  imp,  with  a  final 
saucy  kick,  rolled  off  the  mantel  upon  the  floor — narrowly 
missing-  an  impromptu  cremation  in  the  open  grate  on  the 
way! 

"It  was  rather  pleasing1  to  hear  the  apparently  destruc- 
tive 'smash!'  with  which  my  quondam  entertainer  struck  the 
floor!  I  now  keenly  regretted  its  lack  of  sensory  nerves — 
the  knowledg-e  that  the  fall  had  been  painful  to  the  skull 
would  have  greatly  delig-hted  me. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  apparently  satisfactory  conclusion 
of  the  cranial  war-dance,  I  beg-an  to  question  the  authority  of 
morphia  in  the  premises.  That  skull  certainly  had  fallen  to 
the  floor — no  one  was  near  it,  and  it  obviously  could  not  have 
rolled  off  the  mantel  without  some  physical  agency!  There 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  75 

was  evidently  something1  very  strange,  and  somewhat  dis- 
turbing-, about  the  osteological  exhibition  I  had  witnessed. 

"There  was  no  further  disturbance  upon  the  mantel 
however,  sol  finally  decided  to  be  indifferent,  and  try  to  sleep 
once  more.  I  had  not  been  frightened,  oh,  no!  but  it  seemed 
advisable  to  take  some  more  morphia,  and  thus  prove  my 
faith  in  the  cause  of  my  hallucinations  as  well  as  my  indiffer- 
ence to  consequences. — 

"But  sleep  obstinately  refused  to  put  in  an  appearance, 
and  finally,  despairing-  of  its  arrival,  I  sat  upright  in  bed,  and 
almost  as  a  matter  of  habit,  gazed  somewhat  fearfully  at  the 
mantel — only  to  discover  that  I  was  still  seeing  thing's — that 
were  even  more  surprising-  than  the  jig-  which  the  skull  had 
improvised  for  my  benefit! 

"A  short  distance  from  the  portion  of  the  mantel 
occupied  by  the  skulls,  was  a  small,  framed  photograph. 
Leaning  against  this  familiar  object,  was  a  queer-looking 
individual  who  had  evidently  dropped  in  without  an  invitation 
— a  little  chap  about  three  inches  in  height,  dressed  in  the 
uniform  of  a  soldier !  He  was  as  gay  as  you  please,  his  cap 
being  surmounted  by  several  long  plumes  that  were  waving 
about  in  a  manner  most  martial  and  defiant.  The  air  of  bra- 
vado with  which  he  regarded  me  was  entirely  uncalled  for 
and  decidedly  unbecoming,  considering  that  his  society  had 
been  forced  upon  me. 

"  I  cannot  say  that  I  was  nervous  now,  for,  while  the  affair 
was  becoming  quite  interesting,  I  was  not  afraid  of  gentlemen 
who  were  no  nearer  my  own  size  than  was  my  guest,  besides, 
I  knew  how  to  settle  him.  I  was  armed  with  a  hypodermic 
syringe — and  I  lost  no  time  in  loading  it. 

"As  my  little  visitor  was  not  within  easy  reach,  and 
William  Wey mouth  was,  I  concluded  to  forego  the  pleasure  of 
discharging  my  wreapon  at  the  enemy,  and  as  a  substitute, 
fired  a  huge  charge  of  morphia  under  my  own  skin,  after 
which  I  soon  forgot  my  visions. 

"  When  I  awoke,  it  was  high  noon;  Jack  had  returned 
and  was  standing  at  my  bedside  speculating  on  the  remark- 
ably soporific  effect  of  the  single  small  dose  of  morphia  that 
he  had  given  me  on  leaving  in  the  morning.  The  skulls  were 


76  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

in  their  usual  places  upon  the  mantel,  and  my  little  soldier  had 
disappeared!— 

"I  proceeded  to  relate  my  experience  with  the  bric-a- 
brac,  to  my  chum,  and  concluded  by  an  eloquent  extempore 
scientific  disquisition  upon  the  psychic  effects  of  narcotics. 

"'But,'  said  Jack,  'that  small  skull  was  on  the  floor — I 
replaced  it  myself,  supposing"  that  it  had  been  knocked  down 
by  the  maid  in  dusting1  about,  and  was  wondering1  how  long-  it 
had  lain  there!' 

"This  was  substantial  enoug-h  at  any  rate,  and  I  asked 
him  to  examine  the  photograph.  Behind  it,  he  found,  to  our 
astonishment,  a  hug-e  moth,  clinging"  to  the  picture  frame, 
perfectly  uprig-ht,  its  damp  wing's  folded  closely  around  it  and 
its  feathery  plumes  waving-  about  its  head  just  as  when  it 
played  soldier  for  me!  On  inspecting-  the  culprit  skull,  I  dis- 
covered within  it  a  hug-e  cocoon  that  I  had  found  in  Central 
Park  some  time  before,  and  placed  within  the  skull  for  safe- 
keeping! The  birth  of  the  hug-e  moth  and  his  strug-g-les  to 
free  himself,  had  supplied  the  entertainment  that  I  had  been 
having-. 

"You  see,  the  skull  actually  did  dance  a  jig-,  and  there 
really  was  a  little  soldier — a  most  material  explanation  of  a 
weird  and  startling-  experience. 

"But  my  scientific  observations  of  the  psychic  effects  of 
morphia  were  knocked  in  the  head,  and  another  valuable 
contribution  to  medical  science  was  lost  forever!  I  have 
always  been  sorry  that  Jack  found  that  moth — but  then,  he 
always  was  a  practical  chap,  and  delig-hted  in  throwing-  cold 
water  on  my  pet  schemes  and  elaborate,  newly-fledg-ed 
theories. 

"  Whenever  I  have  since  had  occasion  to  use  narcotics,  I 
think  somewhat  regretfully  of  that  early  experience.  I  am 
something-  in  the  same  state  of  mind  as  a  certain  young- 
g-entleman  who  was  subject  to  delirium  tremens.  He  had 
had  exacerbations  of  this  disease  at  such  frequent  intervals 
for  some  years,  that  he  had  become  quite  inured  to  them. 
Indeed,  his  friends  had  for  some  time  reg-arded  the  attacks 
as  a  matter  of  course,  while  his  physician  had  long-  since  lost 
all  anxiety  as  to  their  outcome. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


77 


"  One  morning-,  however,  the  doctor  was  hurriedly  sent 
for,  and  found  his  patient  in  a  thoroughly  demoralized 
condition.— 

"  '  Why, Henry,  what's  the  matter?'  asked  the  doctor. 

"  '  Oh,  doctor,  I'm  going-  to 
die! — I  had  'em  again  last  night! ' 
"  '  Yes,  but  that  doesn't  prove 
that  you  are  going  to  die;  you've 
'had  'em'  regularly  about  once  a 
month,  ever  since  I  made  your 
acquaintance,  and  you're  not 
dead  yet;  so  brace  up,  old  man! ' 
"'Yes,'  said  the  mournful 
one,  'but  this  time  it  was 
different.' 

"  '  How  so? '  asked  his  medical 
comforter. 

" '  Well,  you  know  I  used  to 
see  elephants  and  lions,  and — 
and  a  big  boa-constrictor  and  rattlesnakes;  and  there — there 
was  a  pretty  little  zebra,  with  stripes  all  running  lengthwise. — 
He  was  gone  last  night  and  I  couldrft  find  him  anywhere! 
Oh,  doctor!  I  know  I'm  going  to  die  this  time.' ' 


"  The  story  of  the  lost  zebra  reminds  me  of  another  case 
of  dipsomania,  which  was  not  only  amusing,  but  demonstrated 
the  diplomacy  and  shrewdness  of  some  victims  of  alcoholism: 

"A  certain  gentleman  of  this  city  has  for  many  years 
been  a  perfect  slave  to  the  drink  habit.  It  so  happens  that 
he  is  a  man  of  powerful  physique,  and  liquor  has  apparently 
never  caused  him  much  physical  harm.  As  a  consequence, 
the  entreaties  of  his  many  friends  have  usually  gone  for 
naught.— 

"  'Said  he:  '  Now  look  here,  boys,  if  I  was  like  some  fel- 
lows and  had  the  D.  T's.  occasionally,  it  might  be  different, 
but,  you  know,  liquor  never  hurts  me;  my  health  is  always 
good,  and  if  I  want  the  fun  of  an  occasional  spree,  where's 
the  harm?  You  just  wait  until  whisky  injures  me — then  you 


78  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

may  talk  about  my  getting  cured!  At  present  writing, 
gentlemen,  I  don't  want  to  be  cured!"1 — 

"And  so  our  friend  went  on  in  his  evil  ways,  to  the  sorrow 
of  his  friends  and  the  despair  of  his  heart-broken  wife  and 
family. 

"  Matters  at  leng-th  came  to  such  a  pass  that  the  bibulous 
gentleman's  wife  appealed  to  several  of  his  intimate  friends, 
among-  whom  was  a  certain  doctor.  At  the  sug-gestion  of  the 
latter,  a  scheme  was  concocted,  which,  it  was  believed,  would 
so  frig-hten  the  dipsomaniac  that  he  would  gladly  embrace 
any  prospect  of  a  cure  of  his  embarrassing  failing,  no  matter 
how  remote  the  promise  of  recovery. 

"  Having  apprised  the  gentleman's  wife  and  secured  her 
co-operation — she  being  so  desperate  as  to  be  willing  to 
undergo  what  bade  fair  to  be  a  severe  ordeal  for  herself 
— the  plans  were  perfected  for  a  novel  experiment  in  dipso- 
therapeutics. 

"A  dinner  party  was  arranged  at  the  victim's  house,  and, 
at  the  appointed  time,  the  conspirators  were  on  hand  and 
ready  for  business. — 

"At  the  conclusion  of  the  dinner,  when  the  wine  was 
flowing  freely  and  the  host  was  beginning  to  feel  a  trifle 
hilarious,  one  of  the  guests  slyly  took  from  his  pocket  a 
couple  of  huge  rats — previously  prepared  by  extracting  their 
teeth — and  dropped  them  on  the  floor. 

"It  was  not  long  before  the  host  noticed  the  animals — 
he  started  slightly,  smiled,  and  turned  to  his  wife  with  the 
remark,  '  Well,  it  seems  we  have  several  un-invited  guests.' 

"His  wife  looked  at  him  in  blank  amazement  for  a 
moment,  and  then  diverted  his  attention  to  some  other  topic — 
it  wras  evident  to  her  husband  that  she  thought  he  was  out  of 
his  head,  and  was  trying  to  prevent  him  from  attracting  the 
attention  of  the  guests  to  his  condition. 

"The  rats,  meanwhile,  were  running  about  all  over  the 
floor,  but  nobody  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  them.  At 
last  our  friend  could  stand  it  no  longer,and  said: 

"'For  heaven's  sake,  madam,  have  John  chase  those 
confounded  rats  out  of  the  room!' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  79 

"'Rats!'  exclaimed  his  wife,  rising  in  feigned  alarm, 
'  what  rats?  ' 

"  'Why  there!  Are  you  blind,  or  what  in  thunder  ails 
you?  - 

"  The  guests  regarded  our  friend  with  extreme  solicitude 
and  alarm,  and  unanimously  asserted  that  they  saw  no  rats! 

"By  this  time,  Mr. began  to  realize  what  had  hap- 
pened— physical  evil  from  liquor  had  at  last  arrived ! 

"  He  was  lead  gently  from  the  room,  given  a  dose  of 
chloral  and  bromide,  and  as  his  friends  now  had  him  right 
where  they  wranted  him,  they  began  reasoning  with  him,  and 
soon  succeeded  in  convincing  him  that  people  wrho  saw  rats 
when  other  people  couldn't,  were  in  a  somewhat  alarming 
condition  and  needed  treatment — a  proposition  with  which  he 
finally  agreed. — 

"'Now,  old  fellow,'  said  his  doctor  friend,  'you  see  how 
necessary  it  is  for  you  to  be  cured  of  your  cursed  appetite  for 
liquor.  The  next  stage  will  be — ahem  !  will  be  softening  of 
the  brain,  or  hardening  of  the  liver,  or  something  like  that, 
and  it's  not  very  far  off  either!  No\v,  I'll  tell  you  what  you 
do.  As  soon  as  you  have  had  your  breakfast  to-morrow 
morning,  you  get  aboard  a  train  and  start  for  Keeley's  place. 
If  you  don't  do  it  voluntarily,  we'll  chain  you  in  the  baggage 
car  and  label  you,  "  Feed  and  water  and  put  off  at  Dwight!  " 
—Come  now,  old  man,  what  do  you  say  ?' 

"'Well,  I'll  go  boys,'  said  the  thoroughly  scared  and 
penitent  man. 

"Mr.  -  — 's  wife  was  delighted  with  the  result  of  the 
conference,  and  there  was  great  rejoicing  in  the  household- 
yea,  even  unto  the  cat  in  the  garret — to  \vhom  seeing  rats 
always  was  a  serious  matter ! ' 

"After  \varm,  mutual  congratulations  had  lasted  for 
some  time,  the  party  broke  up. 

"As  his  friends  were  about  to  leave,  Mr. remarked : 

"Til  tell  you  what,boys,  I'm  mighty  glad  this  thing  is 
settled,  but  I'm  dreadfully  nervous,  and  as  I  probably  could 
not  sleep  for  some  time,  even  if  I  should  retire,  I'll  walk  as 
far  as  the  hotel  with  you  —  the  fresh  air  may  do  me  good.' 


80  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

His  friends  agreed,  and  with  a  good  nig-ht  to  Mrs.  -  -  the 
party  left. 

"Arriving-  at  the  hotel,  Mr.  -    -  said  : 

"'Now,  see  here,  boys — the  die  is  cast,  and  from  this, 
time  on  I  am  a  chang-ed  man  !  I  start  for  Keeley's  place  in 
the  morning1,  just  because  I  promised  you  I  would,  and  to 
please  my  wife,  but  I  really  don't  think  I  need  his  treatment 
—I  have  come  to  myself.  But,  of  course,  it  will  do  me  no 
harm  and  one  cannot  be  too  secure  you  know.' 

"  'As  we  will  not  meet  ag-ain  until  I  return  from  Dwig-ht, 
and  I  am  like  a  condemned  criminal  the  last  nig-ht  before  his 
execution — enjoying-  my  last  nig-ht  on  earth — I  propose  that 
we  take  a  farewell  drink.  Come  on,  boys,  and  help  me  say 
g-ood-bye  to  the  old  life ! ' 

"The  'boys'  demurred,  but  the  doctor  made  them 
understand  by  signs  that  it  was  best  to  humor  his  patient, 
so  they  entered  the  hotel. 

"The  party  stood  at  the  hotel  bar,  celebrating-  the 
redemption  of  their  old  friend  until  the  wee  sma'  hours— 
and  finally  forg-ot  the  object  of  their  celebration  al tog-ether  I 

"As  the  party  was  about  to  break  up  however,  Mr. 

said  : 

"'By  the  way,  boysh,  are  you,  hie!  sure  'bout  thosh 
rats  ? ' 

"  The  boys  allowed  that  they  -were  sure. 

"  'Sure  you  didn'  hie  !  shee  'em,  eh?' 

'"Quite  sure! — No  mistake  about  it! — Dead  certain  I 
etc.,  etc.' 

"'Shay  boysh,  ha!  ha!  ha! — hie! — didn'  I  make  a  lot  o' 
suckers — hie! — of  you?  Why,  I  didn'  shee  any  ratsh,  I  was. 
jesh  'er  foolin',  I  aint  g-oin'  to  Misher  Keeley — I  don't — hie  !— 
need  him !' 

"And  he  didn't." 

"  There  g-oes  that  infernal  telephone  again!  — 
"Hallo!     Hallo!     Croup,   eh?     Very  well,   I'll  be  over 
rig-ht  away ! 

"  If  you'll  wait  a  moment,my  boy,  I'll  walk  to  the  corner 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


81 


with  you.  We  will  not  be  interrupted  at  your  next  visit  I 
hope,  until  I've  finished  a  hookah-full,  at  least ! 

"Why,"  I  remarked,  "what  time  do  you  suppose  it  is? 
Just  look  at  the  clock ! ' 

"  Well,  well!  if  it  isn't  almost  midnight!  I  might  have 
known  it  by  that  telephone  message!  Babies  never  do  get 
sick  at  a  seasonable  hour." 

At  the  corner,  the  doctor  bade  me  good  night. 


SEVERAL  KINDS  OF  DOCTORS, 


O,  dat's  er  hookah  is  it,  hey — 
Wid  dat  long,  red,  snakey  stem? 
Niggah  nebbah  smoke  dat  er  way, 
Luks  queer,  puffin*  tings  like  dem! 
Whar'd  yo'  git  him,  marster,  say  ? 
Turkses  smoke  sich  tings  like  dat, 
Sets  cross-legged  on  er  mat  ? 
Chickens  smoke  'em  nex',  he !  he ! — 
Sabe  us  niggahs  heap  er  trubble 

Natchin'  'em,  hit  seems  ter  me! 
See  dat  water  bile  an'  bubble! 
Jes'  smell  dat  smoke !  Well,  I  jes'  knows 
Dat  'backer's  mixed  wid  leabes  o'  rose ! 


WHEN   PHARISEE   MEETS   PHARISEE,    THEN    COMES — DEATH. 


SEVERAL  KINDS  OF  DOCTORS. 


doctor  was  just  alighting-  from  his 
buggy  when  I  arrived  at  his  gate.    He 
looked  tired  and  worn  out,  and  I  was 
just  thinking  that  I  had  best  go  on 
without  disturbing  him,   when  he 
turned  about  and  saw  me.     He  greeted 
me  with  his  usual  cheery  voice  and 
pleasant  smile.     How  can  a  man  be 
so  agreeable  as  my  good  old  doctor 
friend  usually  is,  when  there  are  so 
many  things  to  try  his  patience  and  squeeze 
the  sap  of  good  nature  out  of  his  veins? — 
"Ah,  my  lad!  I  am  glad  to  see  you  so  prompt. 
I  am  a  little  tardy  myself,  to-night — I  haven't  seen 
my  house  since  morning.     Hallo  there,  Pete!     I 
say,  Pete! — 

"  You  black  rascal!  Why  weren't  you  on  the  look-out  for 
me?  Amusing  yourself  with  that  infernal  old  fiddle,  after  a 
good  dinner,  I'll  wager!  Take  the  horse  around  to  the  stable. 
Give  him  a  good  rub  down  and  don't  feed  or  water  him  until 
he  is  thoroughly  cool — he  has  had  a  hard  drive,  poor  old 
fellow. 

"I  really  ought  to  keep  another  horse,  my  boy,  but — 
well,  times  are  a  little  tight  just  now,  you  know.  People  are 
using  the  '  hard  times  '  excuse  to  keep  their  doctors  waiting 
for  money. 

"  I  shall  not  want  you  again  to-night,  Pete.  Here's  a  half- 
dollar  for  you.  Go  out  and  enjoy  yourself — but  remember, 
sir,  no  champagne  suppers  with  your  ill-gotten  wealth! — 

"  Well,  young  man,  business  first  and  pleasure  afterward. 
Go  into  the  library  and  take  it  easy  until  I  have  had  my  dinner. 


88  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

And,  by  the  way,  don't  muss  the  library  up  too  much.  My 
wife  has  promised  to  visit  us  to-night,  to  find  out  what  we  are 
talking-  about;  so  we  must  look  our  prettiest,  in  honor  of  our 
fair  g-uest.  She  says  the  very  sight  of  that  library  breaks  her 
heart,  hence  we'll  pretend  a  virtue  e'en  though  we  have  it  not. 
"  Straighten  things  up?  N— o— I  guess  you'd  better  not 
— an  orderly  library  makes  me  feel  out  of  my  element.  Mine 
was  put  in  order  three  years  ago — and  I'm  just  beginning  to 
find  out  where  things  are  again." 


"Ah,  my  boy!  a  good  dinner  is  the  greatest  remedy  in  the 
world — when  your  case  is  properly  selected.  To  say  that  the 
remedy  fitted  my  case  this  evening,  would  not  do  the  subject 
justice.  I  have  been  hard  at  work  to-day,  I  assure  you,  and  I 
was  very  hungry. 

"  Many  cases?  Well,  no — a  single  case  took  up  most  of 
the  day,  for  it  happened  to  be  away  out  in  the  suburbs.  It 
was  really  too  far  away  for  me  to  undertake  its  care,  but  the 
family  is  an  old  one  of  mine  and  wouldn't  listen  to  my 
suggestion  to  get  somebody  else.  That's  the  trouble  with 
city  practice — your  patients  scatter  to  the  four  points  of  the 
compass,  the  first  of  every  May.  Your  country  doctor  may 
have  long  drives,  but  he  gets  his  mileage,  and  his  patients 
don't  float  about  much.  When  a  two-dollar  family  moves 
away  ten  miles,  its  care  is  often  inconvenient — especially  if 
you  like  the  family.  The  worst  of  it  is,  your  just  deserts  are 
always  either  too  great  for  the  patient's  pocket,  or  too  exces- 
sive for  his  liberality.  It's  rather  hard  to  be  tied  down  to  a 
single  case,  as  I  was  to-day. 

"Oh,  yes,  mother  and  child  are  doing  well. 

"The  father?  Come  now, — that's  an  old  joke,  my  boy! 
I  suppose  your  professor  of  obstetrics  told  it  to  you  to-day. 
It's  the  same  old  battle-scarred  veteran  that  did  duty  in  my 
college  days.  It  would  seem  that  obstetrical  professors 
ought  to  be  able  to  deliver  themselves  from  the  old  jokes  and 
of  some  new  ones,  occasionally — but  they  are  not,  apparently. 

"By  the  way,  my  boy,  there's  more  meat  in  that  particular 
old  joke  than  your  professor  thinks.  It  is  a  very  important 
matter  to  know  whether  the  father  is  doing  well  or  not.  If 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  89 

he  is  doing-  well,  there's  a  good  fee  in  prospect,  and  if  he  isn't 
— well,  you  may  go  supperless  to  bed.  For  my  part,  I  had 
my  dinner  arrang-ed  for  this  morning-,  else  I  shouldn't  be 
very  g-ood-natured  myself  to-nig-ht. 

"'Ahem!'  said  paterfamilias,  'I'm  a  little  short  just 
now,  but  in  a  few  weeks,'  etc.,  etc. — and  there  was  my  sub- 
stantial practice  for  the  da}7  sacrificed! 

"Will  he  settle,  did  you  ask? 

"  See  here,  young-  man,  people  who  have  had  two  hundred 
and  seventy-five  days,  more  or  less,  in  which  to  prepare  for  so 
important  an  event,  and  fail  to  do  so,  are  not  likely  to  become 
more  thrifty  as  time  g-oes  on.  As  for  the  '  few  weeks ' 
promises,  they  are  usually  mere  unadulterated  moonshine. 

"  Let  me  see — the  averag-e  fee  in  this  section  is  from 
fifteen  to  twenty-five  dollars.  The  better  classes  pay  from 
fifty  to  one  hundred — which  is  very  modest,  to  say  the  least. 
Ten  cents  a  day  for  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  days  is 
twenty-seven  dollars  and  fifty  cents.  Thirty-six  and  a  little 
over  a  third  cents  a  day  for  the  same  time  is  precisely  one 
hundred  dollars.  My!  how  hard-hearted  is  the  physician 
who  expects  his  fee  promptly! 

"  Great  Scott !  What  a  hug-e  credit  mark  we  doctors 
oug-ht  to  have  in  the  big-  book — which  the  pious  folks  say  is 
kept  up  there  somewhere! 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  patient  who  couldn't  g-et  medical 
attention?  I  never  did.  Sick  folks  may  wrant  for  flour,  meat, 
coal,  clothing-,  and  shelter,  but  they  can  always  g-et  a  doctor, 
some  way  or  other. 

"  Did  you  ever  notice  that  the  dear  public  never  pays  the 
slig-htest  attention  to  the  impositions  which  the  medical  pro- 
fession allows  to  be  put  upon  itself?  Just  let  a  doctor  charg-e 
some  rich  fellow  a  g-ood  fee  for  work  well  done,  however,  and 
note  the  howl  of  protest!  To  be  sure,  the  fee  for  saving-  a 
millionaire's  life  is  rarely  more  than  he  would  willing-ly  pay 
for  the  care  of  a  thoroug-hbred  equine  favorite — but  there's 
a  howl,  all  the  same.  Possibly,  after  all,  the  public  has 
often-times  a  more  correct  impression  than  we,  as  to  the 
comparative  value  of  the  lives  of  the  two  animals. 

"But  here  comes  Mrs.  Wevmouth. — 


90  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Well,  my  dear;  you  have  at  last  succumbed  to  that 
over-weening-  weakness  of  your  sex — curiosity.  I  suppose 
you  have  been  worrying1  your  poor  little  head  over  our 
occasional  seances  until  you  just  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer, 
eh?— 

"No,  my  dear,  I  was  but  jesting.  We  are  only  too  glad 
to  have  your  charming  company.  You  don't  mind  the 
hookah? — I  thought  not.  Possibly  you  wouldn't  object  to  a 
glass  of  this  punch ?  No?  Well,  you  don't  seem  to  have  the 
confidence  in  the  artist  who  makes  it,  that  we  have — eh,  my 
boy? 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth  my  dear,  I  should  have  invited  you 
to  participate  in  some  of  our  various  talks  before,  had  I  not 
been  afraid  of  boring  you. 

"  You  see,  my  lad,  I  never  talk  shop  with  my  wife — she 
has  bother  enough,  without  sharing  in  the  burdens  of  my 
practice. 

"  Now  that  you  are  here,  Mrs.  Weymouth,  I  hardly  know 
what  to  talk  about.  I  think  it  might  be  well  to  gossip,  as 
women  do  at  their  little  gatherings.  They  usually  talk  about 
other  women,  who  happen  to  be  absent,  do  they  not? 

"Our  conversation  before  you  came  in,  was  somewhat 
desultory  it  is  true,  but  bore  upon  the  personal  experiences 
of  many  doctors.  I  don't  know  as  I  could  do  better  than  talk 
a  little  about  the  other  fellow,  and  say  something  of  various 
types  of  men  whom  I  have  met  in  the  profession.  Remember 
now;  I  am  supposed  to  be  on  the  outside,  peeking  over  the 
fence,  and  you  are  to  get  my  impressions  just  as  I  receive 
them. 

"  With  your  permission,  I  shall  do  like  evervone  else  who 
attempts  to  show  up  the  other  fellow — take  good  care  to  keep 
out  of  range  of  the  calcium  light  myself,  and  devote  my 
attention  to  manipulating  the  machinery. 

"It  is  to  be  distinctly  understood  that  nothing  I  may  say 
has  any  hypercritical  bearing  upon  Chicago  physicians.  They 
have  been  too  thoroughly  analyzed,  and  too  critically  classified 
—key  included — by  the  physicians'  directory,  to  demand  any 
of  our  valuable  time.  I  may  say  in  passing,  however,  that  the 
broad  line  of  distinction  is,  that  Chicago  doctors  are  divided 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


91 


into  two  classes — ordinary  doctors,  and  doctors  in  the  Colum- 
bus Building-.  The  latter  are  a  little — j  ust  a  very  little — lower 
than  the  angels — at  least,  this  is  true  of  those  'attic  '  or 
fourteenth-story  philosophers  who  chase  the  festive  microbe 
and  brew  the  toothsome  toxin  in  the  laboratory  on  the  top 
floor.  Inasmuch  as  a  number  of  lady  doctors  occupy  offices 
in  the  sacred  Columbian  pile;  I  am  not  so  sure  about  the 
relative  position  of  the  ang-els. 

"For  our  purpose 
this  evening-,  it  will 
suffice  to  divide  the 
profession  into  city 
and  country  doctors: 

"  City  doctors  are  so 
diverse  in  their  charac- 
teristics, 
thatlmust 
be  content 
with  a  few 
distinc- 
tive types. 
None  of 
them  are 

bad,perhaps,  but  some 
are  better  than  others. 
"  First,  we  have  the 
medical  pharisee  —  I 
sav  first;  because  I  am 
anxious  to  get  him  out 
of  the  way  and  proceed 
to  more  wholesome  and 
agreeable  topics. — I 
will  leave  you  to  judge 
of  his  numerical 
streng-th  and  modify 
AN  ATTIC  PHILOSOPHER.  the  picture  as  you  may 

(Intra-Columbian.)  SCC     fit Contenting 

myself  by  presenting  him  as  I  have  often  caught  him  with 
my  kodak. 


92 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"There  are  two  kinds  of  medical  pharisees  —  the  lean, 
lank,  cadaverous  misanthrope,  who  would  make  an  excellent 
understudy  for  a  funeral  director;  and  the  fat,  sleek  and 
unctuous  brother,  on  whom  the  cloak  of  religion  rests  ever 
so  lightly—  especially  on  fast  days.  As  success  in  a  worldly 
way,  comes  to  the  lean  and  hungry  fellow,  he  frequently 
evolves  into  the  more  rotund  type. 

"  Whether  lean  or  fat,  all  pharisees'  souls  are  cast  in  the 
same  mould — which  is  smaller  than  a  lady's  thimble.  If  the 
materialistic  theory  that  the  living-,  sensitive  brain  is  the  seat 
of  the  soul,  be  correct,  then  indeed  is  a  thimble  large  enough 
to  hold  that  of  the  medical  pharisee. 

"  From  the  very  beginning-  of  his  professional  career, 
the  pharisee  works  the  church  for  what  there  is  in  it — very 
much  as  the  coal  barons  do  the  mines — and  wears  his  religion 
upon  his  sleeve,  that  he  who  runs  may  read.  He  is  the  true 

'Christian  Scientist,'  who 
has  been  aptly  described 
as  one  who  has  no  science 
—and  less  Christianity. 
He  belongs  to  several 
churches — or  rents  pews 
therein,  and  manages  to 
occupy  them  all,  during 
the  brief  intervals  of  his 
exacting  practice.  He  has 
a  hired  man,  who,  like 
Yorick,  is  'a  fellow  of 
infinite  jest,'  whose  deli- 
cate sense  of  humor  im- 
pels him  to  call  out  the 
pharisee  in  the  midst  of 
services,  to  attend  an 
imaginary  patient. 

"Did  you  ever  notice  the 
pharisee's  hired  man? 
He  is  usually  a  red-headed 


"SWALLYIN'  HIS  CUD." 


Irishman  of  recent  importation,  with  a  brogue  that  you  could 
spread  butter  on,  and  a  voice  like  an  Italian  banana  man. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  93 

"Sometimes  the  doctor's  supe  forgets  his  lines,  and  then 
there's  trouble  in  the  church.  I  once  heard  of  a  case  of  this 
kind:  The  doctor  had  drilled  his  servant  very  carefully, 
with  the  result  that  the  Hibernian  poked  his  head  through 
the  church  door  during  the  morning  service  and  called  out — 
'Docthor  Jones!  Docthor  Jones!  Mrs.  Johnson's  baby  do  bes 
afther  swallyin'  his  cud,  an'  she  sez  will  yez  come  quick!' 

"But  of  course,  the  pharisee  is  not  responsible  for  the 
pleasantries  of  his  man  Friday.  Neither  is  he  responsible 
for  the  vagaries  of  the  clergyman,  who  announces  from  the 
pulpit  that,  '  through  divine  aid  and  the  skillful  ministrations 
of  our  dear  brother,  Doctor  Pharisee,  our  beloved  sister,  Mrs. 
Fourhundred,  has  recovered  from  her  serious  illness. '  This, 
by  the  way,  is  not  an  unusual  occurrence.  I  heard  a  very 
amusing  story  in  this  connection,  the  other  day.  A  certain 
Chicago  clergyman  announced  from  the  pulpit  — '  Our  dear 
sister,  Mrs.  X,  is  suffering  from  a  serious  and  painful  illness. 

She  is  being  cared  for  by  our  dear  brother,  Doctor  G . 

Let  us  all  pray  for  her  safety.'  Knowing  the  practitioner — a 
very  prominent  society  doctor — I  can  safely  assert  that  there 
is  one  preacher  in  the  city  who  knows  his  business. 

"A  caustic  critic  of  medical  men  once  said:  'Scratch  a 
doctor's  back,  and  you  will  find  an  infidel.'  This  was  unfair, 
and  for  the  most  part  untrue,  but  if  you  scratch  the 
pharisee's  back,  you  are  sure  to  find  a  hypocrite. 

"  The  medical  pharisee  is  very  intolerant  of  other 
people's  opinions,  and,  according  to  him,  the  man  who  does 
not  believe  as  he  does,  is  beyond  redemption.  To  be  sure,  he 
prays,  weeps,  smiles,  and  exhorts  only  with  his  mouth,  but 
he  has  as  much  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  noise,  in  wafting  souls 
to  heaven,  as  does  the  average  Chinaman. 

"The  pharisee  goeth  into  the  various  holy  places  on  a 
Sunday  morning,  and  prays,  with  a  mighty  voice,  as  of  sound- 
ing brass  and  tinkling  cymbal!  And  the  burden  of  his  prayer 
is  for  the  'welfare  of  the  dear  people  of  the  congregation.' 
He  asks  '  that  the  plague  may  go  by  on  the  other  side, '  but 
qualifies  by  praying  that,  '  in  case  the  affliction  should  come, 
a  good  and  wise  physician  like  himself,  be  selected  to  care  for 
the  afflicted  ones.' 


94  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"If  you  would  see  the  medical  pharisee  at  his  best,  just 
drop  a  joke  somewhere  in  his  vicinity,  and  see  the  old  fellow 
jump.  The  effect  of  dynamite  in  the  hands  of  an  over- 
enthusiastic  anarchist,  is  not  a  circumstance  to  that  joke. 

"The  medical  pharisee  is  a  great  stickler  for  ethics;  he 
prates  on  this  question  ad  nauseam.  Strange  to  say,  however, 
it  is  at  the  hands  of  this  ultra-ethical  individual,  that  the 
reputation  of  the  young-  doctor  who  dares  flaunt  his  shingle 
to  the  breeze  in  the  pharisee's  neighborhood,  suffers  most. 
He  it  is,  who  in  consultations,  makes  diagnoses  by  intuition, 
and  damns  the  young  aspirant  for  medical  fame,  with  faint 
praise,  or  covertly  thrusts  a  blade  of  uncharitable  criticism 
under  the  young  doctor's  fifth  rib.  He  it  is, who  says,  with  a 
scornful  intonation,  as  he  feels  the  pulse  of  a  patient,  both  of 
whose  lungs  are  solidified  clear  up  to  his  neck,  '  This  is  not  a 
case  of  pneumonia;  the  paraphernalia  of  this  man's  brain  has 
become  obfuscated,  with  a  resultant  trans-mogrification  of 
the  diaphragm,  and  that's  what  makes  him  short  of  breath!' 
— And  then  the  poor  patient  turns  his  face  to  the  wall  and 
dies,  in  the  sublime  consciousness  that  he  at  last  knows  just 
exactly  what's  the  matter — for  hath  not  the  renowned  Doctor 
Pharisee  spoken? 

"It  is  the  pharisee  who  gets  the  weeping  crowds  and  the 
longest  funeral  procession  when  he  dies — the  only  honor 
that  we  grant  him  with  any  degree  of  cheerfulness  and 
resignation. 

"Who  is  more  worthy  of  respect  than  the  consistent 
Christian,  who  has  the  courage  of  his  convictions,  yet  is 
broad  and  catholic  in  his  tolerance  of  the  conscientious 
opinions  of  others? — And  who  is  more  contemptible  than  the 
medical  pharisee? 

"The  pharisee  is  fond  of  alluding  to  himself  as  a  'self- 
made  man.'  He  may  be  right,  but  his  adoration  of  his  maker 
is  no  evidence  of  piety — besides,  the  job  is  not  always  a  good 
one,  and  is  nothing  to  brag  about  at  its  best.  And  does  not 
the  bible  forbid  the  worship  of  brazen  images? 

"But,  after  all,  the  medical  pharisee  is  not  a  fair  type  of 
the  city  doctor — he  is  but  a  noxious  weed  in  the  broad  field  of 
city  practice.  If  this  weed  could  only  be  torn  up  and 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  95 

destroyed,  there  would  be  more  of  a  living-  chance  for 
worthier  plants,  Unfortunately,  however,  the  pharisee  is 
popular;  he  lives  ostentatiously  and  drives  a  stylish  rig- — all 
of  which  takes  with  the  masses.  And  the  struggling-  young- 
doctor  must  keep  up  with  the  procession  or  g-o  to  the  wall. 
Many  a  doctor's  family  has  gone  threadbare,  and  even 
hungry,  in  order  that  its  bread-winner  might  have  an  even 
chance  with  the  medical  pharisee  in  the  struggle  of  existence. 
Only  a  doctor,  knows  the  heartaches  and  disappointed  hopes 
that  often  lie  just  beyond  the  swell  turn-out  of  the  city 
doctor.  Thing's  sometimes  look  very  different  when  the 
scenes  are  rolled  away,  and  the  bare  boards  of  the  doctor's 
life  are  revealed.  Let  those  optimistic  idiots  who  say  that 
the  doctor  makes  his  money  easily,  try  a  hand  at  g-eneral 
practice  for  a  short  time  and  they  will  be  a  little  more  liberal 
with  the  profession." 

"  There  is  another  individual  who  is  an  excellent  running 
mate  for  the  pharisee — althoug-h  they  can  hardly  be  said  to  be 
well  matched.  This  fellow  is  popularly  known  as  'Dock.' 
As  we  are  drawing-  botanical  comparisons,  we  might  call  him 
'Dockweed.'  He,  also,  has  an  exacting-  practice;  but,  in  lieu 
of  working-  the  church,  he  spends  the  intervals  of  his  arduous 
professional  labors  in  working-  for  the  cause  of  prohibition — 
by  surrounding-  the  enemy,  so  to  speak.  His  capacity  for 
whisky  is  enormous,  and  his  popularity  with  ward  politicians 
correspondingly  great. 

"  This  is  the  man  of  whom  the  laity  says,  '  He's  the  best 
doctor  in  the  neighborhood — when  he's  sober.'  I  never  could 
quite  see  the  logic  of  this  assertion,  but  everybody  has  heard 
it,  or  something-  similar.  As  the  calcium  lig"ht  of  calm 
reflection  glitters  on  the  rich  carmine  of  his  proboscis,  what 
do  you  think  of  him?  Does  he  not  look  wise?  Really,  I  fear 
he  knows  enoug-h  medicine — to  be  dang-erous!  This  g-ood 
doctor — 'when  he's  sober' — is  a  fruitful  theme,  but  it  makes 
me  so  weary  to  think  about  him,  that  I  will  do  no  more  than 
briefly  introduce  him,  feeling  sure  that  you  will  be  surprised 
to  learn  that  h*e  is  an  old  acquaintance — for  I  am  certain  that 
vou  have  met  him  before. 


96 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"This  much  I  will  say,  however:  When  anybody  tells 
you  that  a  town  drunkard  can  be  a  g-ood  doctor ;  believe  him — 
providing-  he  can  show  a  correctly-drawn  death  certificate  for 
the  aforesaid  doctor.  A  drunken  doctor  is  a  g-ood  doctor,  and 
can  be  trusted,  when  he's  like  Mark  Twain's  g-ood  Indian 
—very,  very  dead !  And  when  such 
a  man  prates  of  his  greatness,  as 
he  is  likely  to  do,  for  he  is  often  one 
of  those  men  with  gen- 
ius  written  upon  his 
brow — 'written  there 
by  himself — and  com- 
plains because  the 
world  at  larg-e, 
and  the  profes- 
sion in  par- 
ticular, can 
not  see  it,  let 
us  be  thank- 
ful that  some 
people,  in 
some  direc- 
tions, g-et  just 
about  what  they 
deserve  in  this 
world. 

"And  now  that 
the  medical  phar- 
isee  and  the  'dock' 
have  been  weeded  out — 
metaphorically  — alas !  that 
it  could  not  be  literally — 
you  are  perhaps  wondering- 
whether  there  is  such  a 
thing-  as  an  ideal  city  doctor,  and  what  he  may  be  like.  I 
have  an  ideal,  which  has  often  been  realized  in  the  medical 
profession.  Althoug-h  the  particular  embodiment  of  the  ideal 
of  which  I  shall  speak  has  long-  since  passed  away,  the  type  is 
always  with  us,  and  you,  perhaps,  may  know  such  a  one.  He 


DOCKWEED  IN  PROFOUND  REFLECTION. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  97 

was  of  a  type  which  is  very  familiar  to  many  people  as  '  Our 
family  doctor  ' —  even  though  they  may  not  fully  appreciate 
him. 

"  The  man  who  was  to  me  an  ideal  physician,  had  grown 
gray  in  the  service  of  humanity,  and  had  seen  less  deserving- 
men  among1  his  classmates,  push  forward  to  wide  reputations 
and  great  financial  rewards,  whilst  he  remained  in  the  same 
plodding-  path  he  entered  on  leaving  the  hospitals.  He  was 
not  popular  in  the  early  days  of  his  practice  in  the  North,  for 
he  was  a  Virginian,  and  the  people  of  his  colder  northern 
environment  were  rather  slow  to  forget  that  he  had  once  been 
a  'rebel  surgeon.'  He  had  seen  his  guiding  star  of  duty  in 
the  care  of  the  suffering  '  boys  in  gray' — how  well  he  per- 
formed that  duty,  the  stricken  soldiers  of  the  Confederate 
army  of  the  Tennessee  could  testify.  When  popularity  did 
come,  it  was  not  such  as  brings  affluence,  or  even  financial 
independence.  He  who  had  been  reared  in  wealth  and  luxury, 
was  doomed  to  be  '  a  poor  man's  doctor  '  all  his  life.  And  he 
was  indeed,  a  poor  man's  doctor,  for  with  him,  fees  were  a 
secondary  consideration.  As  with  many  others  of  Utopian 
ideas,  our  kind  doctor's  generosity  was  more  often  abused 
than  appreciated.  The  axiom  that  '  The  gift  horse  is  ridden 
to  death,'  is  nowhere  more  aptly  illustrated  than  in  the 
practice  of  medicine,  and  ever  stands  as  a  solemn  protest 
against  the  doctor's  mixing  too  much  sentiment  writh  his 
daily  work. 

"Being  a  poor  man's  doctor,  is  equivalent  to  being  a  poor 
man,  and  so  my  city  doctor  had  little  occasion  for  display. 
Satisfied  was  he,  with  a  sound  coat  to  cover  his  back — albeit 
'twas  often  threadbare — bread  for  his  babies,  and  a  clean 
slate  at  his  butcher's.  And  yet  he  was  talented  — indeed,  he 
was  the  most  philosophical  physician  I  ever  knew.  But  the 
rich  did  not  appreciate  his  merit,  and  he  was  too  busy  with 
patients  of  less  distinction,  to  thrust  himself  before  people 
of  greater  social  and  financial  importance. 

"How  often,  in  my  student  days,  I  have  known  the  old 
man  to  rise  of  a  cold,  tempestuous  midwinter's  night  to  face 
the  icy  storm,  in  behalf  of  some  poor,  sick  woman  or  suffering 
child,  whom  he  well  knew7  would  never  be  able  to  compensate 


98 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


him!  Sometimes,  I  would  say  to  him:  'Doctor,  the  head  of 
that  family  could  pay  you  if  he  would;  he  drinks,  and 
gambles  his  money  away !  I  wouldn't  go  if  I  were  you ! '  And 
then  the  kind  old  doctor  would  shake  his  head  reprovingly, 


,w» 

THE    STORMY    I'ATII    OF    m'TV. 

and  say,  'William,  my  boy,  never  let  the  women  and  children 
suffer,  even  though  the  men  are  rascals!  Be  all  the  more 
ready  to  go,  because  you  have  an  opportunity  to  redeem  your 
sex  — it  needs  it  badly  enough.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  99 

"And  this  practical  lesson  in  philanthrophy  came  from 
the  lips  of  an  agnostic! 

"When  the  lean  and  bloodless  pharisee  meets  such  a 
medical  paradox  upon  the  broad  highway  of  life,  he  gathers 
his  funereal  garb  more  closely  about  him  and — goes  by  upon 
the  other  side,  as  though  in  fear  of  the  contagion  of  expansion 
of  heart;  while  his  more  unctious  brother  pats  himself  upon 
his  portly  front  in  sublime  self-satisfaction,  and  thinks  of  new 
schemes,  whereby  our  Caesar  may  become  more  great. " 


"  Forty  years  of  unremitting  toil  brought  feebleness  to 
my  city  doctor,  yet  he  still  followed  the  narrow  path  of 
professional  duty  he  had  marked  out  for  himself  in  early  life. 
Someone  had  said  in  his  later  years:  '  It  is  not  wise  to  trust 
the  old  doctor  too  far;  the  silvery  crown  of  age  does  not 
always  bring  wisdom,  nor  does  the  feebleness  of  senility 
insure  a  keen  eye,  an  unerring  judgment  or  a  steady  hand. 
Do  thou  employ  a  younger  and  more  learned  physician.'  But 
his  faithful  patients  replied:  '  He  has  served  us  passing  well; 
he  has  never  abused  our  confidence,  nor  has  he  ever  failed  in 
the  varied  trusts  and  responsibilities  we  have  put  upon  him.— 
He  has  succored  our  lives,  and  cared  for  our  treasures — our 
children. — He  has  guarded  our  reputations! — These  things 
do  we  value  more  than  a  knowledge  of  new  theories,  that  are 
here  to-day  and  there  to-morrow;  more  than  "the  optic  sharp 
I  ween,  that  sees  things  that  are  not  to  be  seen."  Bravely, 
faithfully  and  uncomplainingly,  has  he  borne  the  woes  of  our 
children  and  the  burdens  of  our  wives;  most  steadfastly  has 
he  shielded  the  family  skeleton  from  the  gaze  of  a  carping 
and  cruel  world — this  is  more  to  us  than  all  the  fads  of 
modern  imaginations!' 

"He  died  in  harness,  did  this  dear  old  man,  and  almost 
to  the  very  day  of  his  death,  he  plodded  about  through  the 
stormy  days  of  our  early  spring  weather,  ministering  to  the 
wants  of  patients,  none  of  whom  were  half  so  sick  as  was  he 
himself.  He  finally  succumbed — the  pitcher  had  gone  to  the 
well  for  the  last  time!  And  when  the  end  came,  his  brother 
physicians  looked  wise,  and  gave  learned  names  to  the  rest 
that  had  come  after  forty  years  of  constant  and  self-sacrificing 


100 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


labor  for  humanity's  sake.  Surely  his  toil  had  been  unselfish, 
for  he  received  little  reward  in  this  world — and  his  material- 
istic philosophy  held  out  no  hope  of  recompense  in  the  next! 
But  who  shall  say  that  oblivion  was  not  to  him  a  fair  reward 
— a  well-earned  rest? 


THE     LITTLE    CHILDREN     SEEMED     TO     REACH    OUT     THEIR    TINY,     EAGER 
HANDS    TO    CALL    THE   OLD    MAN    BACK. 

"  Few  indeed,  were  the  silks  and  satins,  in  the  little 
gathering  that  paid  the  last  mournful  tribute  of  respect  to 
my  city  doctor.  Men  in  threadbare  suits,  and  women  in  rusty 
black,  looked  down  upon  the  face  of  the  good  and  wise 
physician,  and  felt  that  their  best  friend  had  gone — not  to 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  101 

their  heaven,  perhaps,  but,  if  he  himself  was  right,  to  an 
immortality  of  another  kind,  free  from  fear  of  punishment  or 
hope  of  reward. 

"Beside  him  wept  the  careworn  mother,  who  once  had 
heard  the  chime  of  the  golden  bells  across  the  mystic  sea — 
who  had  seen  old  Charon  with  his  phantom  bark,  ready  to 
waft  her  to  the  eternal  shore — that  was  all  too  near — and  had 
been  saved  to  her  loved  ones  by  the  helping-  hand  of  our  city 
doctor.  And  who  shall  say  he  was,  or  was  not,kind?  And  the 
little  children,  whose  youthful  trials  in  the  battle  of  life  he  had 
helped  to  bear,  seemed  to  reach  out  their  tiny,  eager  hands, 
to  call  the  old  man  back!  To  them  he  was  a  hero,  of  most 
colossal  mould,  whose  fame  and  great  deeds  will  ever  be 
a  sanctified  and  beautiful  memory  in  the  household! 

"  Good  and  wise  old  city  doctor,  friend  of  the  poor, 
champion  of  the  struggling  young  practitioner,  kindest  and 
wisest  of  preceptors — here's  to  thy  memory!  Thy  life  was 
indeed  an  ideal  that  the  many  may  not  hope  to  attain,  but 
which  is  even  now,  being  exemplified  by  a  devoted  few,  whose 
lives — whether  ruled  by  the  sublime  faith  of  Christianity  or 
by  that  universal  milk  of  human  kindness  that  knows  no  creed 
— are  inspired,  not  only  by  the  genius  of  medicine,  but  by  a 
practical  philanthropy  which  makes  the  profession  of  medi- 
cine the  noblest  under  the  sun!  " 


"And  now  I  wish  to  pay  my  humble  tribute  to  one  whose 
prototype  is  ever  with  us — the  country  doctor: 

"  I  would  speak  both  of  the  country  doctor  of  the  past — 
who  farmed  on  fair  days  and  practiced  physic  in  the  stormy 
intervals — and  the  progressive,  intelligent  country  practi- 
tioner of  to-day.  There  is  a  warm  place  in  my  heart,  even  for 
the  farmer  doctor  of  old  time,  for  his  heart  was  kind,  and  he 
often  builded  wiser  and  better  than  he  knew — even  though  the 
hard  yet  golden  grains  of  his  practicality  have  become 
obscured  by  the  innovations  of  modern  days.  I  can  forgive 
him  his  look  of  wise  and  patronizing  importance  when  I, 
childlike,  read  the  labels  on  his  saddle-bag  bottles  and  asked 
him  wrhat  nux  vomica  was.  With  a  shake  of  his  wise  and 

ly  old  head,  and  an  expression  that  would  have  put  old 


102 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


Diogenes  himself  to  the  blush,  he  replied :  kOh,  nux  vomicky 
is  rat's  bane,and  we  give  it  fer  the  stummick  and  in-tes-tines. 
Run  away  now,  sonny,  I  must  make  some  pills  fer  yer 
gran'ther.' 

"Admitting  that  the  old  man's  classification  was  open 
to  criticism,  he  knew  the  drug  was  'pizen  stuff,'  and  I  think 
that  even  the  most  learned  members  of  our  profession  must 
confess  that  the  ancient  pill-maker's 
therapy  was  right — 'nux  vomicky' 
is  indeed  very  good  '  fer  the  stum- 
mick and  in-tes-tines.' 

"When  the  pills  were  done  and 
duly  delivered  to  my  grandfather, 
with  instructions  to  take  fc  one  after 
each  meal, '  I  wondered  how  on  earth 
the  old  gentleman  was  going  to  find 
room  for  one  of  those  enormous 
boluses,  after  eating  a 
good  old-fashioned  New 
England  dinner!  Even 
he,  weakened  at  the 
prospect  after  one 
day's  trial,  so  the  pills 
were  reverently  laid 
away  on  the  shelf 
among  the  other  bric-a- 
brac,  for  future  refer- 
ence. But  I  was  inter- 
ested in  those  pills,  and 
speedily  filched  them 
—for  purposes  best 
known  to  my  self.  I  shall 
never  forget  my  grandfather's  wrath,  when  he  caught  me  in 
the  midst  of  a  game  of  finger-billiards  that  I  had  extemporized 
with  those  marble-like  monstrosities!  And  when  one  of  his 
favorite  hens  got  hold  of  one  of  the  pills  and  foolishly 
attempted  to  swallow  it,  thereby  converting  herself  into  a 
caricature  and  ruffling  her  throat  so  that  it  looked  like  a 
lady's  feather  boa,  the  old  gentleman  rose  in  his  might  and 


A    MISFIT. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  103 

smote  me,  hip  and  thigh — or  in  that  immediate  vicinity!  I 
distinctly  recollect  that  I  was  in  a  condition  of  generalized 
hyperaesthesia  for  two  weeks  afterward!  I  didn't  call  it 
'hyperaesthesia'  then,  but  it  had  a  staccato  quality  of  hurt  to 
it,  that  was  a  most  efficacious  corrective  of  all  my  tendencies 
to  sedentarv  habits  for  some  weeks. 

"  '  Granther'  was  an  economical  man — he  had  paid  the 
old  doctor  for  those  pills  and  did  not  propose  to  see  them 
wasted — besides,  he  was  fond  of  that  blessed  old  'dominick' 
hen.  The  old  man  was  much  like  the  old  negress  who  had  a 
sick  son.  Finding-  the  boy  putting  on  his  trousers  one  morn- 
ing, she  said: 

"  '  Yo',  Ephum!  whar's  yo'  gwine?  ' 

"  Tse  feelin'  bettah,  mammy,  an'  I'se  gwine  down  town.' 

'"Oh!  yo'is,  isyo'?  Well,  I  ruddah  guess  not!  Yo'  jes' 
take  off  dem  britches  an'  go  ter  bed,  an'  stay  dar  tell  yo' 
takes  up  dat  dollah  an'  er  haf's  wuf  er  med'cin', er  I'll  stomp 
de  libber  outen  yo' — yo'  heah  me  shoutin'!'- 

"From  my  description  of  the  pills,  you  may  at  once  infer 
that  the  hayseed  doctor  was  a  regular  practitioner — and 
indeed  he  was.  When  a  luckless  homeopath  ventured  to 
locate  in  our  little  village,  the  old  fellow  surrounded  himself 
with  an  ethical  atmosphere  as  dense  as  a  London  fog.  And 
his  pills  grew  larger,  and  his  decoctions  viler,  as  if  in  very 
defiance  of  the  whole  breed  of  'moonshine  doctors  and 
medical  mugwumps!'  It  was  a  great  relief  to  the  old  man's 
patients — those  at  least  who  survived — when  the  homeopath 
gave  up  the  fight  and  went  to  preaching — the  only  practice, 
by  the  way,  in  which  the  two  schools  can  ever  perfectly  agree. 

"  The  old  farmer  doctor  was  a  very  pious  old  man,  and, 
being  a  methodist,  was  an  exhorter  of  no  mean  pretensions. 
He  also  had  some  very  positive  ideas  regarding  the  behavior 
of  bovs  on  Sundays.  One  bright  Sabbath  morning  the  old 
man  came  down  the  road  in  his  gig,  and  spied  me  by  the 
roadside,  spade  in  hand,  arduously  pursuing  the  study  of 
helminthology — which  in  this  instance  meant  the  pursuit, 
rather  than  the  science,  of  worms.  He  stopped  his  horse 
and  began  vigorously  catechising  me.  I  gave  an  account  of 
my  scientific  investigations  that  might  have  satisfied  the 


104 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


old  doctor,  had  he  not  caug-ht  a  glimpse  of  a  couple  of  fishing- 
poles,  suspiciously  projecting-  above  the  stone  wall  by  the 
roadside.  On  investigation,  he  found  a  chap  with  much 

nerve  but  less  discretion — one 
Tom  Baker — on  the  other  end  of 
the  poles;  this,  in  the  old  man's 
mind,  was  sufficient  evidence  of 
nefarious  purposes  on  my  part, 


A    TENDER    MEMORY. 


for  he  well  knew  Tom's  aims  and  objects  in  life — or  his  lack 
of  them.  I  ventured  to  expostulate  with  him,  and  mildly 
suggested  that  he  made  large  pills  on  Sunday,  and  why 
should  I  not  dig  worms,  and  kill  the  great  American  game 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  105 

fish — the  white  chub — down  in  the  old  sloug-h  on  the  same 
day?  And  then  he  swore  piously — as  doctors  do — and  pro- 
ceeded to  administer  an  arg-ument  for  Sunday  closing-,  that 
would  have  paralyzed  even  the  Puritan  fathers  and  made 
moral  persuasion  a  work  of  supererogation.— 

"And  such  a  superhuman  knowledg-e  of  boy  anatomy  as 
that  old  doctor  possessed!  He  was  a  specialist  in  that  par- 
ticular direction.  Such  a  clear  understanding-  of  peripheral 
sensory  nerve  filaments!  It  is,  indeed,  a  tender  memory! — 

"But  when  I  was  sick  with  the  croup,  that  dear  old  man, 
crippled  as  he  was  with  old  ag-e  and  as  he  expressed  it,  'the 
rheumatiz,'  clambered  painfullv  to  the  back  of  his  old  roan 
mare  at  one  o'clock  of  a  stormy  morning-,  and  despite  the 
accentuation  of  equine  bones — for  he  forg-ot  his  saddle  — 
g-alloped  over  the  roug-h  and  hilly  New  Eng-land  roads  to  my 
rescue!  What  thoug-h  my  croup  was,  as  he  said,  'not  mem- 
bran-e-ous?' — relief  was  what  I  yearned  for,  and  relief 
in  '  allopathic  '  doses,  not  technicalities,  was  what  I  g-ot. 

"And  so  my  lines  were  cast  in  pleasant  places,  and  I 
grew  up  under  the  protecting-  wing-  of  '  reg-ular  medicine  '- 
my  childish  conception  of  which,  was  a  pious  old  g-entleman, 
with  a  positive  affinity  for  blue  laws,  a  predilection  for  larg-e 
pills  and  nauseating-  draug-hts,  a  heart  as  big-  as  that  of  an  ox 
— and  a  hitting-  power  equal  to  Sullivan's. 

"  Yet  the  country  doctor  has  evolved,  not  only  as  a  class, 
but  he  has  differentiated  from  his  strong-  individuality,  a 
McDowell,  a  Sims,  a  Battey — of  cherished  memory — and  a 
host  of  other  men,  richly  endowed  by  nature,  who  from  small 
and  lowly  beg-inning-s  have  risen  to  the  hig-hest  places  among- 
the  elect. 

"It  is  in  America  that  the  prototype  of  the  country 
doctor  is  seen  at  his  best.  Strong-,  cool-headed,  self-reliant 
and  patient,  he  stands  out  in  bold  relief  ag-ainst  the  leaden 
sky  of  modern  commercial  medicine.  Progressive  as  far  as 
his  opportunities  will  permit,  his  brain  and  experience  are 
the  crucible  in  which  medical  innovations  are  tried.  He  is 
the  g-overnor  of  the  professional  eng-ine,  which,  with  the 
averag-e  extremist  at  the  lever,  would  carry  us  on  to  a 
therapeutical  optimism  that  sooner  or  later  would  wreck  us 


106  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

by  its  downfall  and  the  substitution  of  its  natural  enemy- 
nihilism.  His  lancet  is  laid  away,  and  aconite,  veratrum 
viride  and  the  modern  coal  tar  preparations  have  usurped  its 
throne — so  much  the  worse,  perhaps,  for  the  throne.  The 
inquisitorial  turnkey  has  been  lost  in  the  cow  pond  by  the 
children,  and  he  now  pulls  refractory  grinders  with  the 
modern  nickel-plated  forceps. 

"  He  has  seen  the  discoveries  of  Jenner,  Lister,  Pasteur^ 
Koch,  and  many  others,  illumine  the  professional  horizon  and 
revolutionize  medicine  and  surgery.  He  has  witnessed  the 
development  of  abdominal  surgery,  that  has  made  such  men 
as  Tait,  Wells,  and  in  our  own  country,  Price,  Kelly  and 
many  others,  bright  particular  stars  in  their  chosen  pro- 
fession. So  many  things  has  he  seen  and  tried  in  the  crucible 
of  his  daily  experience,  that  volumes  would  be  necessary  to 
describe  his  varied  observations.  Verily,  the  country  doctor 
has  been  the  judge  before  whom  many  things  have  been  tried 
in  the  balance,  and  alas ! — often  found  wanting. 

"And  medicine  is  not  all  he  knows!  He  is  the  Nestor  of 
the  little  hamlet  where  he  lives.  He  even  rivals  the  preacher 
and  the  postmaster,  in  his  fund  of  knowledge.  The  village 
'squire,'  never  pretended  to  compete  with  him.  Religion, 
politics,  and  agriculture — he  knows  them  all!  To  him,  are 
all  momentous  questions — social,  scientific  and  theological — 
referred  for  decision — and  none  shall  say  he  is  not  a  just  and 
righteous,  albeit  often  a  most  stubborn,  self-willed  judge. 

"When  the  lyceum  days  of  midwinter  arrive,  it  is  our 
country  doctor  who  debates  with  the  village  school-master 
and  the  parson  of  the  little  white  church.  He  it  is  who 
downs  'em  all  at  the  '  spelling  bees.' 

"  When  the  boys  find  queer  herbs  or  odd-looking  bones, 
in  their  strolls  through  the  woods  and  fields,  it  is  to  the  old 
doctor  that  they  go  for  their  classification.  What  though  he 
does  sometimes  classify  the  skull  of  the  defunct  Mephitis 
Americana  as  one  of  the  family_/J?/«&£ — he  is  not  supposed  to 
be  curator  to  the  Smithsonian  Institute.  Besides,  if  a  black 
cat  is  one  of  the  felida  why  not  a  polecat  ? 

"But  our  country  doctor  completely  fills  the  sphere  in 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  .107 

which  he  lives,  and  more  ;  his  skill  and  practical  wisdom, 
leaven  the  entire  medical  loaf. 

"It  is  to  the  country  that  we  go  for  our  blood,  and  brawn, 
and  muscle  and  sinew — verily,  to  the  country  also  go  we,  for 
a  fresh  supply  of  level  and  virile  brains.  The  country 
practitioner  is  the  man  of  resources — he  is  the  man  of  deeds. 

"  Long  life  to  thee,  O  cross-roads  oracle!  May  the  kindly 
light  of  thy  bluff  and  cheery  good  nature  never  fail!  May  all 
generations  to  come,meet  thee  on  the  rugged  road  or  smooth- 
rolled  pike,  with  a  hearty  welcome  and  a  keen  appreciation 
of  thy  always  well-meant  and  ever  skillful  service!  May  the 
cheery  picture  of  thy  weather-beaten,  wholesome  and  honest 
face,  and  bright  and  kindly  eye,  peer  out  from  thy  rickety 
and  mud-bespattered  gig,  for  ages  to  come;  and  mav  Nancy 
Hanks  ne'er  be  in  it  with  thine  old  gray  mare,  who  hath  ever 
been  the  fastest  rack  o'  bones  all  along  the  road!  Thy 
leathern  chest  contains  hope,  good  cheer,  and  safety  for  many 
a  household,  and  the  whisky  that  thou  givest  for  colds  needs 
no  rock,  for  it  is  the  best  that  'Ole  Kaintucky  '  e'er  produced. 

"Who  ever  knew  the  country  doctor  to  falter  in  his  path 
of  duty?  His  city  brother — at  least  he  of  the  opulent  and 
profitable  specialty — may  well  lie  in  his  downy  couch,  all 
unmoved  by  the  savage  onslaught  of  the  chill,  remorseless 
wind  and  pitiless  sleet.  But  our  country  doctor,  as  he  lies 
down  to  sleep,  and  hears  the  petulant  fusillade  of  rain  or  hail 
on  roof  and  window  pane,  knows  full  well  that  it  is  apt  to  be 
dismal  music  for  him,  ere  morning  dawns.  But  he  sleeps 
none  the  less  sweetly,  and  responds  to  the  call  of  suffering 
humanity  none  the  less  promptly,  though  he  knows  that  the 
purling  brook  that  crosses  the  broad  highway  between  him 
and  his  patient — who,  perhaps,  is  many  miles  away — is  now  a 
turbulent  torrent.  Even  though  the  messenger  tells  him 
that  the  rickety  bridge  is  swept  away,  he  does  not  hesitate, 
for,  to  him,  this  means  only  the  saddle  and  a  swim,  instead  of 
his  storm-sheltering  gig — a  road  over  which  a  messenger  can 
pass,  or  even  a  crow  can  fly,  has  no  obstacles  for  that  moral 
Hercules,  the  doctor  of  the  cross-roads.  And  time  is  no 
object;  he  not  only  goes  promptly,  but  he  stays  until  another 
soul  has  been  launched  upon  the  turbulent  ocean  of  life,  or, 


108 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


mayhap,  until  the  grim  boatman  has  called  for  yet  another 

passenger  for  the  great   unknown,  and   he   knows   that  his 

kindly  offices  are  no  longer 

fraught    with   hope.      And 

when  such  an  end  has  come, 

there  is  none  to  equal  him, 

in    the    tender  offices    of 

consolation. 


TO  THK    KKSCUE. 


"And  so,  through  storm  and  sunshine,  year  in  and  year 
out,  the  dear  old  country  doctor  plods  along,  living1  and  learn- 
ing-, living  and  letting  live,  ushering  in  sunbeams  and  cheering" 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  109 

despair,  pulling-  teeth  and  lancing-  g-ums,  advising-  the  young- 
and  consoling-  the  old,  until  his  own  earthly  span  has  been  run 
and  he  falls — in  harness.  And,  when  the  rest  he  has  so  well 
earned  comes  to  our  countrv  doctor,  may  he  g-o  to  a  land 
where  a  bushel  of  oats  or  a  bag-  of  potatoes  is  not  a  fee- 
equivalent  for  a  ten-mile  drive.  Who  i:$  there  among-  us,  that 
can  so  well  fulfill  the  axiom  of  that  g-ood  old  philosopher, 
Epictetus,  who,  in  his  Encheiridion  has  said:  'Remember 
that  thou  art  but  an  actor  in  a  play,  of  such  a  sort  as  the 
author  may  choose;  if  short,  of  a  short  one;  if  long-,  of  a  long- 
one.  If  thy  part  be  that  of  a  poor  man,  of  a  rich  man,  or  of 
a  mag-istrate,  see  to  it  that  you  act  the  part  naturally.  For 
this  is  your  duty,  to  act  well  the  part  that  is  given  you?' 
Here  was  the  source  of  one  of  the  immortal  Shakespeare's 
grandest  inspirations;  it  surely  beseems  my  hero — the 
country  doctor! 

"Someone — I  don't  know  who,  or  I  would  thank  him  for 
the  sentiment — has  described  the  old  family  doctor  of  the 
cross  roads  in  a  style  as  quaint  as  it  is  beautiful — 

'  When  I  git  to  musiri'  deeply, 

Bout  them  times  what  used  to  be, 
An'  the  swellin'  tide  o'  memory, 
Comes  a  sweepin  over  me, 
Then,  'mong  the  wrecks  of  long-  agx>, 
That's  driftin'  on  the  crag's, 
I  can  see  our  fam'ly  doctor 
With  his  leather  saddle  bag's. 

With  his  crown  so  bare  and  shiny, 
An'  his  whiskers,  white  as  snow, 
With  his  nose  jest  like  a  piney, 
That's  beginnin'  fer  to  blow, 
Fer  he  painted  it  with  something 
Frum  his  bottles  er  his  kags, 
That  he  allus  carried  with  him, 
In  them  rusty  saddle  bag's. 

When  the  whoopin'  cough  was  ragin' 
Er  the  measles  wuz  aroun' 
He'd  mount  his  rhubarb  pony, 
An'  gx>  scootin'  out  o'  town, 
With  his  saddle  skirts  a  floppin'. 
An'  his  leg-gin's  all  in  rag's, 
An'  the  roots  an'  yarbs  a  stuffin' 
Out  his  pussy  saddle  bags. 


110  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

Then,  when  mam  wuz  down  with  fever, 

An'  we  thought  that  she  would  die, 

That  ole  feller  didn't  leave  her, 

An'  he  never  shut  an  eye ; 

But  he  sot  thar  like  a  pilot, 

Fer  to  keep  her  frum  the  snags, 

An'  he  brought  her  through  the  riffle 

With  his  rusty  saddle  bags. 

I  can  see  him  with  his  glasses, 

Sot  a-straddle  of  his  nose, 

With  his  broad-brimmed  loppy  beaver, 

An'  his  loose,  old  fashioned  cloze; 

I  can  see  him  tyin'  at  the  gate 

The  laziest  o'  nags, 

An'  come  puffin'  up  the  pathway 

With  his  heavy  saddle  bags. 

But  he  started  on  his  travels 

Many,  many  years  ago, 

Fer  the  place  where  life  onravels 

An'  dividin'  waters  flow. 

So  I  hope  he's  reached  the  haven 

Where  no  anchor  ever  drags, 

An'  has  landed  safe  in  heaven 

With  his  shinin'  saddle  bags,' 

"Ah!  my  boy;  the  man  who  wrote  that,  well  knew  his 
family  doctor — and  what  is  more,  he  appreciated  him. 
What  he  has  so  beautifully  said  of  his  own  family  physician, 
fits  many  another  hard-working-,  old-fashioned  country  prac- 
titioner. 

"It  is  to  be  regretted  however,  that  the  author  of  those 
eulogistic  lines,  should  have  marred  their  beauty  by  an 
uncharitable  and  fallacious  interpretation  of  the  ruddy  bloom 
upon  the  old  doctor's  nose.  How  else  but  ruddy,  should  a 
man's  nose  look,  after  some  decades  of  hard  country  riding, 
up  hill  and  down  dale,  in  weather  which  has  little  respect  for 
one's  finer  feeling's — and  no  respect  whatever  for  his  nose? 
Why — the  'piney'  hue  of  the  old  veteran's  nose  was  the  red 
ribbon  of  our  legion  of  honor!  And  if  he  chose  to  wear  it 
there,  instead  of  in  his  button  hole — well,  whose  affair  was  it?" 


"And  now  that  we  have  finished  our  little  gossip  about 
doctors,  a  final  word  to  you, my  boy: 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  Ill 

"Epictetus  formulated  a  maxim  through  which  the  lay- 
man should  stick  a  pin  and  post  in  the  most  conspicuous  place 
under  his  vine  and  fig  tree:  'Select  for  both  thy  physician 
and  thy  friend,  not  the  most  agreeable  but  the  most  useful.' 
"  It  is  not  always  the  man  who  shines  with  most  effulgence 
in  society,  nor  is  it  necessarily  the  man  who  prays  the 
loudest,  wTho  is  the  most  useful  physician. 

"To  you — a  coming- doctor — I  would  say,  do  not  try  to 
stick  too  closely  to  the  ideal,  but  remember  that  a  proper 
appreciation  of  one's  own  commercial  value,  does  not  neces- 
sarily interfere  with  a  healthy  sentiment  of  philanthropy. 

"It  is  no  disgrace  to  die  poor,  nor  does  it  matter  much 
perhaps,  to  the  doctor  himself;  there  is  little  consolation  to 
his  family,  however,  in  the  fact  that  his  life  was  one  of  philan- 
thropy— for  all  but  those  who  were  most  entitled  to  his 
consideration.  Sentiment  for  the  dead  man  is  apt  to  be 
tempered  by  the  bitterness  of  hunger — or  what  is  worse,  the 
embarrassment  of  shabby  gentility!  Only  too  often  is  the 
fulsome  obituary  of  the  departed  doctor  supplemented  by 
the  advertisement  that  his  library  and  instruments  are  on 
sale — for  the  purpose  of  defraying  the  funeral  expenses. 

"To  the  poor,  therefore,  give  much;  from  the  rich,  take 
more.  Remember  that  the  man  of  affluence  has  no  claim 
upon  you,  other  than  that  he  should  expect  your  best  skill,  at 
the  highest  prices.  Let  him  pay  a  part  of  the  poor  man's 
tax! 

"  If  you  go  to  church,  go  there  for  the  benefit  of  your  soul, 
and  not  your  pocket.  On  that  final  day  of  reckoning,  in  which 
the  pharisee  professes  to  believe,  St.  Peter  can  see  through 
the  veneer  of  sham  piety,  and,  if  you  be  not  careful,  you 
are  apt  to  be  put  on  the  top  shelf  among  the  back  numbers. 
He's  a  queer  old  chap,  and  may  take  a  notion  to  melt  the 
veneer  off  you — his  colleague,  the  devil,  will  be  glad  to  lend  a 
hand!  A  long  funeral  procession  will  not  save  you — your 
friends  may  be  much  like  a  certain  Irishman,  who  was  seen 
by  a  countryman  of  his,  riding  along  in  one  of  the  carriages 
of  a  grand  funeral  pageant:  Says  Mike,  on  the  walk,  to 
Paddy,  in  the  carriage — 'Who's  in  the  hearse,  beyant?' 


112 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


'Faith,  an'  I  dunno,'  replied  the  quondam  aristocrat  in  the 
carriage,  'Oim  in  it  fer  the  roide!' 

"Don't  be  a  '  dock-weed' — for  a  full  head  at  night  is  apt 
to  result  in  an  empty  head,  and  a  still  emptier  pocket,  next 
day!  Do  not  affect  too  much  dignity,  for  this  useful  attribute 
may  be  overdone! — I  have  known  doctors  who  were  so  over- 
powered with  this  commodity  that  their  faces  ached.  I  have 
in  mind  at  the  present  moment,  several  gentlemen  whose 
smiles  not  only  have  the  same  effect  upon  me  as  an  icicle 
surreptitiously  put  down  my  back,  but  they  excite  my  suspi- 
cions— and  I  am  naturally  of  a  confiding-  disposition.  Ugh! 
such  smiles  give  me  the  qualms! 

"As  Bill  Nye  tersely,  if  inelegantly,  put  it,  '  Don't  be  a 
clam!'  Don't  be  afraid  to  laugh  at  a  good  joke,  nor  to  tell  it 
again  if  you  can  do  it  half-way  decently.  It  may  help  your 
liver,  de-congest  your  spleen — and  indirectly,  benefit  your 
patients. 


"Well,  my  boy,  I  see  that  our  lady  guest  is  getting 
fatigued.  She  has  never  been  a  member  of  an  owl  club, 
and  is  not  inured  to  such  late  hours  and  long  stories  as 
characterize  our  seances.  I  believe,  madam,  that  you  have 
not  heard  me  talk  so  continuously  since — well,  since  our 
courting  days.  You  see,  young  man,  doctors  don't  have 
much  chance  to  become  acquainted  with  their  wives.  Then, 
too,  I  don't  know  as  Mrs.  Weymouth  would  permit  me  to  tell 
long  stories  anywhere  but  in  my  library;  she  does  let  me  do 
about  as  I  like  on  this  side  of  the  library  door.  But  it's 
different  in  the  rest  of  the  house,  eh,  my  dear? 

"  Good  night,  sir,  and  pleasant  dreams  to  you! 


THE  DOCTOR  EMULATES  SANDOW, 


HEN  sombre  thoughts  assail 

thy  mind, 
Or  chilling  woes  depress 

thine  heart ; 
I'll  tell  thee  where,  alone, 

thoul't  find 
A  fairy,  who  with  magic 

art, 
Will   clear    thy   mental 

clouds  away 
And  all  thy  pangs  of  grief 

allay. 


QUITE  TRILBYESQUE,    EH? 


THE  DOCTOR  EMULATES  SANDOW, 


ELL,  you've  come  at  last, 
have  you?  I  had  almost 
concluded  you  had  forg-otten 
me  entirely.  Youngsters  are 
prone  to  selfishness,  and  it 
would  be  perfectly  natural  for  you 
to  forget  that  I  have  got  to  the  point 
where  I  cannot  enjoy  life  without 
occasionally  indulging  in  the  mild  dissipation 
of  a  little  gossip.  I  don't  wonder  the  women  folks  like  their 
afternoon  teas  and  sewing-  circles.  I  used  to  be  content  with 
strict  attention  to  work-a-day  affairs,  but,  as  I  grow  older,  I 
must  either  indulge  my  garrulous  propensities  or  be  mis- 
erable. 

"Ah!  my  dear  fellow! — I  shall  be  lonesome  after  you 
graduate. 

"Another  student? 

"Of  course,  but  you  don't  seem  to  realize  how  difficult  it 
is  to  train  a  good  listener.  It  is  an  art  that  I  myself  have 
just  begun  to  understand.  You  must  remember  that 
garrulity  'loves  a  shining  mark.'  I  suppose  the  secret  of 
the  whole  matter  is  that,  as  Disraeli  said  of  Gladstone,  I 
am  'intoxicated  with  the  exuberance  of  my  own  verbosity.' 
I  have  found  you  a  most  indulgent  auditor,  and  I  fear  that  a 
new  student  might  not  be  so  self-sacrificing  as  yourself. 

"I  suppose  you  were  surprised  that  I  did  not  rise  and 
greet  you  as  usual.  Well,  I  just  couldn't,  that's  all!  Every- 
thing is  awry  with  me  to-night — the  world's  turned  upside 


118  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

down!  My  wife  is  away  visiting-  her  mother — and  the  cook 
is  even  crankier  than  I  am!  Drat  these  mothers-in-law! 
They're  always  coming-  to  visit  a  fellow  or  g-etting-  his  wife 
off  to  see  them!  A  bad  steak,  cold  coffee,  and  afterward  my 
hookah  refusing-  to  draw!  And  just  look  at  my.  foot — four- 
teen yards  of  flannel  and  ten  pounds  of  absorbent  wool  about 
it,  if  there's  a  yard  or  a  pound!  Smell  the  arnica,  turpentine, 
camphor,  chloroform  and  thing's!  —  Can't  smell  'em  all  at 
once,  eh?  Then  you're  not  fit  for  the  practice  of  medicine. 
Learn  to  be  a  connoisseur  of  smells,  my  boy — you '11  need  to  be 
a  past-master  of  olfactory  expertness,if  you  would  succeed  in 
your  profession.  Pah !  How  I  hate  odorous  complexities, 
anyhow!  I  like  your  g-ood,  old-fashioned  assafoetida  or  iodo- 
form  straig-ht.  No  foolishness  about  them  \  You  always  know 
just  where  to  find  'em.  There's  valerian,  too — another  g-ood 
old  reliable  smell.  Get  up  any  sort  of  an  'ate 'you  please, 
and  if  valerian  is  there,  she's  there,  and  that's  all  there  is  to 
it.  Why,  that  drug-  is  as  faithful  as  a  dog- — especially  one 
that  has  been  deceased  for  a  few  days. 

"Why  is  it  that  we  doctors  are  such  old  women  when 
we're  sick?  Just  look  at  that  foot  ag-ain!  Has  a  coddled 
appearance  hasn't  it?  That's  just  what's  the  matter;  I  have 
coddled  it  and  my  wife  has  breathed  sig-hs  of  sympathy  over 
it,until  I  really  think  it  quite  interesting.  Quite  Trilbyesque,. 
eh?  There  never  was  a  poor  old  '  widdy  '  woman's  son  had 
such  an  elaborate  dressing-  on  a  lame  foot. 

"  By  Jove !  That  dry  g-oods  store  comes  off  that  foot  and 
I  get  out  of  this  to-morrow,  if  I  have  to  put  on  a  plaster  cast 
and  take  to  crutches!  Would  you  believe  it?  I've  been 
confined  to  the  house  since  day  before  yesterday!  Day 
— before — yesterday,  mind  you ! 

"  Gout? 

"  Now,  look  here,  young  man,  you  mustn't  talk  that  way  T 
You  know  well  enough  that  I  have  never  been  afflicted  with 
anything  of  the  kind — neither  am  I  in  the  slightest  danger  of 
it!  Lithaemic,  you  say?  Y-yes,  but  not  to  that  extent,  besides, 
I  am  too  fond  of  plain  living  to  run  any  risk  of  developing  a 
swollen  big  toe.  Oh  yes,  I  know;  rare  beefsteaks  and  a 
very  little  punch  might  be  formidable,  but  those  steaks  are 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  119 

not  so  very  large,  and  that  punch  is  as  mild-mannered  as 
goat's  milk  with  the  '  mountain  dew  '  left  out.  No,  I've  never 
a  touch  of  the  gout,  but  if  you'll  stop  grinning  so  sarcastically 
for  a  few  moments,  I'll  tell  you  what  really  is  the  matter  with 
this  blessed — ouch  ! — foot." 


"  You  may  have  noticed  recently,  that  I  have  been  getting 
a  trifle  '  waisty. '  My  adipose  tissue  has  been  steadily  gaining 
on  my  lungs  until  I  began  to  believe  they  were  undergoing 
fatty  degeneration.  My  diaphragm  has  had  a  steady 
quarrel  on  with  my  liver  and  other  fixings  of  my  department 
of  internal  revenue,  for  some  months.  I  have  bewailed  my 
fate  and  quarreled  with  my  adipose  destiny  in  vain.  I  might 
have  put  up  with  it,  had  not  my  wife  remarked  sarcastically, 
that  she  hoped  the  fat  would  not  'get  into'  my  'brain.' 
Embonpoint  ccrebrale!  Oh,  horrible!  horrible! — I  then 
made  up  my  mind  that  something  must  be  done,  and  on 
reflection,  decided  that  I  must  do  it  myself. 

"Now, I  suppose  you  think  it  a  very  easy  matter  for  a 
physician  to  reduce  his  flesh;  he  advises  his  patients  in  the 
matter  of  diet,  so  glibly  that  one  might  think  he  would 
delight  in  following  his  own  prescriptions — but  he  most 
emphatically  does  not.  Prescriptions  and  learned  opinions 
were  made  for  patients,  but  never  for  doctors  themselves. 
As  I  have  often  remarked,  physicians  are  like  guide-posts — 
their  business  is  to  stand  at  some  conspicuous  corner  on  the 
road  of  life  and  point  out  the  way  to  the  weary  and  ignorant 
traveler — but  go  themselves?  Never!  They  are  too  benev- 
olent and  self-sacrificing  to  do  anything  of  the  kind.  Besides, 
if  they  did  follow  the  road  they  point  out  to  others,  the  poor 
travelers  who  come  after  them  might  lose  their  way.  No; 
we  must  have  our  doctors  right  where  we  can  find  them  when 
wanted. 

"  I  will,  however,  confess  another  reason  why  it  was 
difficult  to  follow  the  advice  I  am  accustomed  to  give  to  others; 
I  am  rather  fond  of  a  good  dinner — plain  food,  you  know, 
and  plenty  of  it.  You  can  readily  appreciate  the  quandary  I 
was  in. 

"I  presume  it  would  have  been  an  act  of  simple  fraternal 


120  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

courtesy  to  have  consulted  another  doctor,  but  there  were 
serious  objections  to  that.  Doctors  know  so  much  about 
each  other's  methods  that  the  element  of  mystery  is  gone 
—and  with  it  goes  our  confidence.  What's  the  use  in  asking 
a  professional  brother  to  tell  you  something  you  already 
know?  He  sympathizes  with  you, it  is  true,  but  deep  down 
in  the  murky  depths  of  that  portion  of  his  ego  that  he  terms 
his  soul,  he  sets  you  down  as  an  ass — -and  he  rarely  errs  in 
his  diagnosis. 

"I  was  of  course  somewhat  diffident  about  confiding  my 
troubles  to  any  one,  but  it  so  happened  that  one  of  my  old 
friends — whom  we  will  call  '  Jule,'  for  short,  and  \vho  chances 
to  be  a  lawyer  by  profession — had  been  observing  for  some 
time,  the  decidedly  aldermanic  proportions  I  was  acquiring. 
He  finally,  in  a  facetious  manner,  called  attention  to  my 
lack  of  symmetry — thus  giving  me  the  opportunity  of 
discussing  the  matter  with  freedom,  and  incidentally  asking 
his  advice.  I  warned  him  in  advance,  that  I  would  not  under 
any  circumstances  ride  a  bicycle.  I  took  it  for  granted  that 
he  would  suggest  one  of  those  infernal  machines. 

"'I  am  no  bicycle  crank,'  said  he,  'and  if  I  were,  I 
wouldn't  recommend  one  to  you,  for  to  be  frank,  I  don't  think 
you  are  built  that  way.  The  bicycle  has  a  hard  row  to  hoe 
as  it  is;  the  bloomerites  are  bad  enough,  and  I  don't  think 
the  spectacle  you  would  present,  would  tend  to  popularize  the 
machine,'  and  then  he  laughed — confound  him! 

"Jule  saw  that  I  was  hurt,  indeed,  words  failed  me — you 
may  imagine  how  hard  I  was  hit.  I  could  only  glare  at  him  as 
indignantly  and  reproachfully  as  the  situation  appeared  to 
demand. 

"Observing  the  'Et  tu  Brute''  effect  of  his  rather  pointed 
remarks,  he  said,  pacifically:  'Now,  see  here,  old  man, 
you  know  you  are  not  an  Adonis,  and  you  ought  to  take  a 
little  joke  upon  your  personal  appearance  without  getting 
provoked  about  it'. 

"'That's  all  well  enough',  I  replied;  'no  doubt  you  were 
joking,  but  your  jokes  remind  me  of  the  Irishman's  repartee: 

" '  Two  Irishmen  were  reading  their  respective  news- 
papers one  day,  when  one  of  them  turned  to  the  other  and 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  121 

said:  "Say,  Moike,  Oive  found  a  wurrud  here  that  Oi  don't 
understhand. " 

4  "Sure,  an'  pfwat's  the  wurrud,  Pat?  Sh pell  it  out  for  me." 

'  "  Well,  here  it  is,  Moike — r-e-p-a-r-t-e-e. " 

"'Sure,  Pat,  an'  that's  Frinch;  that's  ree-par-tay ! " 

'  "An'pfwat  the  divil's  that,  Moike?" 

'  "Well,  ye  see,  Pat,  that's  whin  a  feller  sez  somethin'  to 
ye  that  yez  don't  loike  an'  yez  git  roight  back  at  'im;  Oi'm  sur- 
proised  at  yer  ignerance,  Pat!" 

"*A  few  days  later,  Pat  asked  his  friend  for  a  chew  of 
tobacco: 

"  "  Divil  a  bit'll  ye  git,  Pat  Murphy,  Oi've  but  a  wee  bit 
fer  mesilf !" 

"  'With  this,  Pat  picked  up  a  half -brick  and  applied  it  to 
the  portion  of  Mike's  cranium  where  it  seemed  likely  to  do 
the  most  good. 

"  '  When  Mike  came  to,  he  said: 

'  "  Howly  Moses,  Pat !  pfwat  the  divil  did  yez  hit  me  loike 
that  fer?" 

'"Whist,  ye  ignerant  shpalpeen,"  said  Pat;  "that's 
ree-par-tay." 

"  'Oh  well,'  said  Jule,  'I  suppose  I  am  a  little  blunt,  but 
you  ought  to  be  used  to  me  by  this  time.  However,  I'll  over- 
look vour  sensitiveness  just  once  more,  and  if  you  will  be 
patient  long  enough,  I'll  try  and  suggest  something  that 
may  be  of  practical  benefit  to  you. 

"'I  have  been  thinking  for  some  time,  doctor,  that  you 
ought  to  take  more  exercise.  I  have  been  practicing  what  I 
am  now  preaching  to  you,  for  several  weeks.  I  remember 
that  when  you  were  younger,  you  were  quite  an  athlete.  We 
used  to  have  some  very  pleasant  times  together  in  our  old 
training  days,  and  I  see  no  reason  why  we  should  not  take  it 
up  again.  To  be  sure,  the  methods  of  training  have  changed 
somewhat  since  our  time,  but  I  find  that  I  am  adapting  myself 
to  the  new  system  of  athletics  quite  rapidly.  Just  feel  my 
biceps, old  man!  Isn't  that  good,  for  less  than  a  month's  work?' 

"I  was  forced  to  admit  that  it  was  an  excellent  muscle — 
it  is  best  to  humor  Jule  at  all  times,  and  especially  \vhen  he's 
in  condition. 


122  OVER  THE;  HOOKAH. 

"  'How  did  you  accomplish  so  much  in  so  short  a  time?' 
I  asked ! 

"  '  Why,'  he  replied;  'I've  been  practicing-  a  la  Sandow.— 
You  have  heard  of  him  of  course  ? ' 

"  I  admitted  that  I  had,  but  frankly  confessed  that  I  knew 
nothing-  of  his  system.  I  stated,  however,  that  I  should  be 
glad  to  learn  something-  about  it. 

"'Nothing-  could  be  easier,'  said  Jule.  'I  am  well  ac- 
quainted with  him,  and  if  you  will  take  in  his  show  with  me 
to-nig-ht  I'll  introduce  you  after  the  performance  is  over.' 

"The  plan  met  with  my  approval,  especially  as  I  had  no 
objections  to  a  nig-ht  off,  and  knew  that  Jule  was  an  excellent 
companion. 

"  Well,  we  went  to  the  show,  and  I  must  say  that  I  was 
greatly  entertained  by  the  modern  Samson's  exhibition  of 
gladiatorial  idiocy.  I  was  especially  edified  by  the  manner 
in  which  he  held  up  a  number  of  men  on  a  hug-e  plank  placed 
upon  his  chest.  It  subsequently  struck  me,  thoug-h,  that  the 
feat  was,  after  all,  quite  ordinary — as  I  remarked  to  Jule,  we 
have  a  number  of  g-entlemen  here  in  the  city  who  are  quite 
successful  in  holding  up  people,  although  they  are  too  modest 
to  give  public  exhibitions. 

"Sandowalso  supported  several  horses  upon  his  chest  in 
a  manner  that  elicited  great  applause.  I  could  not  help 
wishing,  however,  that  he  had  had  the  opportunity  of  sup- 
porting an  old  gray  mare  I  used  to  own.  I  know  that  old 
nag  had  a  nest  of  tape  worms — I  tried  to  support  her  for 
several  years,  but  finally  gave  it  up  in  despair.  I  think  even 
Sandow  would  have  weakened. 

"But  the  gladiator's  specialty  seemed  to  be  living 
pictures.  As  I  looked  at  the  wonderful  display  of  muscle 
exhibited  in  his  various  attempts  at  artistic  posing,  the  fire 
of  gladiatorial  ambition  entered  my  soul  and — I  felt  an  ardent 
desire  to  emulate  Sandow.  I  told  Jule  as  much,  in  such 
untechnical  terms  as  I  happened  to  have  about  me,  but  he 
only  growled  at  me  and  told  me  that  I  made  him  'tired.'  I 
don't  know  why  he  was  so  surly — I  had  certainly  so  simpli- 
fied my  language  that  there  was  nothing  fatiguing  about  it. 
I  suppose  that  he  was  irritated  because  I  had  interrupted  a 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


123 


trance  into  which  he  had  been  thrown  by  a  shapely  come- 
dienne who  happened  to  be  in  airy,  voluptuous  evidence  when 
I  spoke  to  him.  You  see,  my  friend  Jule  is  dreadfully  bald 
— that  in  itself  is  quite  suspicious. 

"After  the  performance  was  over,  I  was  introduced  to 
Sandow,  who  kindly  told  me  all  about  his  wonderful  chest 
expansion  and  enormous  muscular  measurements.  Like  all 
public  characters,  however, 
the  gentleman  is  very  modest 
—he  is  inclined  to  shrink  at 
the  sight  of  a  tape-line.  I  had 


THE    LIMIT    OF    A    DOCTOR'S   ASSURANCE. 

a  faint  suspicion  that  his  measurements  were  as  expansive  as 
his  breathing"  apparatus,  but  being- out  of  condition  myself  and 
Sandow  being,  as  I  remarked,  quite  sensitive,  I  refrained. 

"  Sandow  was  very  courteous  and  explained  his  system 
of  training  quite  fully.    His  ideas  were  decidedly  novel  to  me. 


124  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

He  assured  me  that  no  special  dietetic  measures  were  neces- 
sary to  his  method — he  had  himself  partaken  of  a  champagne 
dinner  just  before  the  evening's  performance,  and  had  also 
smoked  several  cigars. 

"  '  When  I  get  through  with  my  work,'  he  said,  'I  always 
take  a  bath  in  ice-cold  water.'  He  then  proceeded  to  give  us 
a  practical  illustration  of  this  feature  of  his  training. 

"This  concluded  our  interview — a  newspaper  reporter 
might  pursue  a  victim  beyond  his  bath,  but  a  self-respecting 
doctor  must  draw  the  line  somewhere. 

"On  the  way  home,  Jule  forgot  the  pretty  soubrcttc  and 
condescended  to  talk  to  me  again. 

"'What  do  you  think  of  Sandow's  method?'  he  asked, 
'  is  it  not  wonderful  in  its  results?  ' 

"  '  Well, 'I  replied,  'his  system  of  exercise  is  quite  rational, 
and  leads  me  to  believe  that  physical  training  is  not  so 
severe  an  ordeal  as  it  used  to  be  when  we  were  young.  Don't 
you  think,  however,  that  the  cold  bath  might  be  omitted  with 
advantage  ? ' 

"  '  Oh  yes,'  replied  Jule  sarcastically,  'leaving  merely  the 
champagne  and  cigars.' 

"  I  saw  that  I  was  likely  to  become  irritated  if  I  kept  on — 
Jule  is  quite  aggravating  at  times — so  I  dropped  that  particu- 
lar section  of  the  subject. 

"Before  bidding  me  good-night,  Jule  made  an  appoint- 
ment with  me  for  the  next  morning  at  the  gymnasium  he 
attended,  and  being  now  possessed  of  a  single  ambition — 
to  become  a  Sandow — I  not  only  kept  the  appointment  but 
was  on  hand  long  before  the  appointed  time. 

"By  the  way,  my  boy,  that 'early  bird'  business  is  a 
fraud,  or  else  I  was  the  early  worm  and  not  the  bird  on  this 
occasion.  I  know  what  /caught  at  all  events — and  it  was  not  a 
worm,  as  the  sequel  will  show — indeed  I  wish  it  had  been  a 
worm.  It  is  possible  that  I  did  catch  one,  though — a  boa 
constrictor,  for  example. 

" '  The  first  thing  for  you  to  do,'  said  my  mentor,  'is  to 
worry  off  some  of  that  fat' — and  by  way  of  illustration,  Jule 
grabbed  a  handful  of  my  waist  and  pinched  it  until  I  threat- 
ened to  shoot  him. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  125 

'"The  best  way  to  begin  is  to  take  some  kind  of  exer- 
cise which  necessitates  quick  movements.' 

"I  fancied  he  was  becoming-  satirical  again,  and  was 
alluding  to  my  tendency  to  physical  inertia,  but  merely  said 
that  I  thought  so,  too. 

"  'Now,'  said  Jule,  'there's  boxing,  for  example;  there's 
no  exercise  superior  to  it  for  worrying  off  fat.  I'll  introduce 
you  to  the  professor  in  charge  of  that  department.  He  has 
a  private  room,  you  know,  and  you  will  have  no  occasion  for 
embarrassment  in  taking  your  lessons.  While  you  are  having 
your  first  seance  with  the  professor,  I'll  do  a  turn  or  two 
about  the  gymnasium/  ' 

"The  'professor'  seemed  very  glad  to  see  me — if  the 
energy  and  warmth  of  his  handshake  were  to  be  taken  in 
evidence.  He  had  a  peculiar  manner  of  shaking  hands;  using 
both  his  own,  and  ostentatiously  grabbing  as  many  of  mine 
as  happened  to  be  within  easy  reach.  I  did  not  lose  any  of 
my  fingers,  but  they  felt  as  though  I  had  been  dallying  with 
a  sausage  machine.  Later  on,  I  discovered  that  this  peculiar 
method  of  hand-shaking  was  a  relic  of  the  ancient  Greek 
games.  It  seems  that  it  was  the  custom  of  the  gladiators  to 
extend  both  hands  to  each  other,  in  order  to  show  that  they 
held  no  weapon.  The  fashion  is  not  Jin  de  s&cle,  for  my 
experience  proves  that  the  modern  Greek  doesn't  need  a 
weapon — his  hands  are  enough.  It  would  be  more  consistent 
to  keep  his  hands  busy  by  giving  him  a  club  in  one  hand  and 
a  pair  of  brass  knuckles  in  the  other — it  would  also  be  more 
humane  to  the  party  of  the  second  part. 

"  There  was  one  thing  that  was  thoroughly  demonstrated 
to  me  by  my  observations  of  my  new  instructor  in  deportment 
and  Delsarte,  which  was,  that  a  liberal  education  is  never 
thrown  away.  No  matter  what  r61e  Mr.  O'Donovan  might 
have  been  called  upon  to  play  in  the  drama  of  life,  he  would 
have  made  an  impression.  I  did  not  ask  him  for  his  auto- 
biography on  so  short  an  acquaintance — nobody  but  an  ass 
or  a  bunko-steerer  would  have  done  such  a  thing,  and  nobody 
but  a  bunko-steerer,  a  novelist,  or  a  dramatist,  ever  takes 
advantage  of  the  history  thus  elicited,  even  when  the  other 


126  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

fellow  is  idiot  enough  to  tell  it.  It's  all  very  well  for  the  old 
'has  been'  in  the  play,  to  tell  the  story  of  his  past  life— every 
stage  character  must  have  a  past,  although,  come  to  think  of 
it,  the  stage  ladies  seem  to  need  it  most — but  the  fellow  who 
plays  the  same  character  in  real  life,  rarely  does  so,  save  for 
revenue  only. 

"  '  Professor'  O'Donovan  is  truly  a  versatile  genius. — I  do 
wish  I  could  speak  of  him  in  the  past  tense,  but  he  still  lives, 
and  what  is  worse,  I  may  never  have  the  opportunity  of  pre- 
scribing for  him.  I  am  willing  to  wager  that  he  makes  a 
decided  hit  in  any  position  in  which  he  may  chance  to  be 
placed.  I  wish  I  could  describe  in  detail,  all  the  striking 
characteristics  of  the  man,  but  I  regret  to  say  that  my 
memory  serves  me  only  up  to  a  certain  point,  beyond  which 
it  is  not  to  be  relied  upon. 

"O'Donovan  presents  many  admirable  points — qualities 
in  fact,  which  tend  decidedly  in  the  direction  of  self-develop- 
ment and  the  formation  of  a  strong  character.  He  is  more 
fertile  in  expedients  than  any  man  I  ever  knew.  Possessed  of 
an  exceptional  degree  of  ambidexterity,  the  professor  can  do 
more  with  his  hands,  than  most  men  can  with  the  most  ela- 
borate tools.  Emergencies  that  would  compel  other  men  to 
use  a  multiplicity  of  implements,  are  met  by  this  wonderful 
man  with  no  other  tools  than  those  \vith  which  nature  provi- 
ded him.  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  his  ability  to  per- 
form wTith  his  hands  alone,  feats  for  the  accomplishment  of 
which  the  ordinary  man  would  require  an  elaborate  array  of 
instruments — such  for  example  as  a  slung  shot,  or  an  ax,  or  a 
gun,  or  a  baseball  bat.  Whenever  I  look  at  myself  in  the  glass* 
and  think  of  my  surgical  instruments,  I  blush  for  very  shame. 

"I  might  remark  in  passing,  that  the  professor's  method 
of  physical  culture  is  superior  in  its  technique,  to  anything 
I  have  ever  seen  or  even  read  of.  There  are  few  systems 
that  compare  with  it.  Indeed,  I  doubt  whether  there  was 
ever  a  railroad  riot,  or  a  game  of  foot  ball,  or  a  saloon  row,  or 
a  circular  saw,  that  could  compete  with  it  in  point  of  multi- 
plicity, variety  and  punctuation  of  results.  His  technique 
reminds  me  of  that  of  one  of  my  friends  who  poses  as  a  sur- 
geon: 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  127 

"A  certain  gentleman,  Dr.  J ,  on  being-  asked  if  he  had 

ever  seen  Dr.  X—  —  perform  an  operation,  replied  that  he  had: 

"  '  And  what  do  you  think  of  his  work  ?  ' 

"'Well,'  said  J ,  'It  reminds  me  very  forcibly  of  a 

railroad  accident!' 

"In  addition  to  his  other  admirable  qualities  the  pro- 
fessor is  a  clever  financier — so  clever,  indeed,  that  I  question 
whether  he  has  not  mistaken  his  calling-.  He  should  have 
been  a  surgeon,  for  he  has  sense  enoug-h  to  collect  the  fees 
for  his  operations  before  he  puts  his  patients  to  sleep.  In 
O 'Donovan's  case  I  must  say  that  the  precaution  is  especially 
wise,  for  he  is  inclined  to  push  his  anaesthetic  a  little  too  far, 
and  I  suspect  that  some  of  his  subjects  have  forgotten  to 
wake  up — he  is  so  careless,  and  inclined  to  throw  his  weight 
upon  his  patient's  body  in  such  a  manner  as  to  seriously 
impede  respiration;  wrhich,  as  you  well  know,  is  quite  danger- 
ous— to  the  patient. 

"But  I  must  say  in  all  justice  to  the  professor,  that  he 
gives  a  receipt  in  full  for  all  fees  received.  To  be  sure,  the 
receipt  does  not  comprise  an  accident  policy,  but  it  is  very 
valuable  as  a  means  of  identification  of  the  corpse,  and  that's 
something.  I  admit  that  the  professor's  writing  is  not  as 
plain  as  some  of  his  other  handiwork,  but  his  signature  is 
unmistakable  and  shows  evidence  of  real  genius.  Indeed, 
it  strongly  resembles  the  autographs  of  Shakespeare,  and 
some  other  celebrities  who  have  made  their  mark. 

"But  it  was  the  professor's  language  that  struck  me 
most  forcibly — at  first.  O 'Donovan  evidently  aims  to  be  in 
fashion  and  is  certainly  up  to  date  —  his  conversation  plainly 
shows  that,  contrary  to  the  popular  belief,  'twas  really  he 
who  wrote  'Chimmie  Fadden.'  HOWT  that  man  Townsend 
could  ever  muster  up  cheek  enough  to  plagiarize  that  classical 
production,  I  cannot  understand.  He  certainly  did  not  know 
O'Donovan  as  well  as  I  do,  or  he  never  would  have  done  it. 
My  advice  to  Townsend  is,  to  square  the  matter  as  soon  as 
possible —preferably  before  the  professor  hears  about  it. 
Should  he  wait  until  O'Donovan  catches  him,  he  had  best 
submit  the  matter  to  a  board  of  arbitration.  I  might  remark, 
en  passant,  that  I  am  not  looking  for  office  myself — besides,  I'm 


128  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

not  'English,  you  know,'  and  might  not  be  a  brilliant  success 
as  an  arbitrator. 

"After  the  preliminary  how-do-you-do  hand-shake 
that  I  have  described,  Professor  O'Donovan  suggested  that  I 
'Strip  ter  de  buff.  See?'  I  complied,  after  learning  that  he 
desired  me  to  become  a  forbidden  picture — from  the  waist 
up. 

"  Having  adopted  full  dress  for  the  occasion,  my  toilet 
was  of  course  incomplete  without  gloves,  and  I  suggested  as 
much  to  the  professor,  who  replied: 

"  '  Dat's  what,  cully,  'n  here's  de  mitts!' 

"  He  now  brought  out  a  couple  of  pairs  of  emphysematous- 
looking  affairs  resembling  a  collection  of  'pizened  pups,'  that 
had  evidently  once  been  intended  to  represent  boxing  gloves. 
They  were  originally  white,  I  presume,  but  they  had  lost 
their  pristine  color  and  assumed  a  hue  and  flavor  quite 
suggestive  of  a  front  door  mat. 

"The  professor  handed  me  a  pair  of  the  leathery  mon- 
strosities and  instructed  me  to  put  them  on.  As  I  complied, 
I  noticed  that  the  upholstering  in  the  gloves  was  thin  in  some 
spots  and  rather  bunchy  in  others.  The  thumb  of  one  of 
them  was  apparently  affected  with  a  bad  case  of  spavin — or 
was  it  'spar-vin?'  The  leathery  part  of  the  things  was  covered 
with  a  varnish-like  glaze  that  I  had  no  opportunity  to  analyze 
minutely,  but  which  upon  gross  inspection  appeared  to  be 
composed  of  an  admixture  of  sebum,  sweat  and  nasal  mucus, 
with  here  and  there  a  dark  spot  that  I  did  not  quite  com- 
prehend—  until  later. 

"As  I  looked  at  those  glovers  I  wondered  if  the  other  pair 
was  just  like  mine  and — held  my  breath. 

"Meanwhile,  the  professor  again  shook  hands  with  me.— 
So  thoughtful  of  him  to  bid  me  farewell  in  such  a  touching 
manner,  was  it  not? 

"  '  Now,'  said  he,  '  Yer  want  ter  take  er  persition  jes'  like 
dis.  Savvy?'  With  these  words,  O'Donovan  put  himself  in  a 
most  terrifying  attitude  and  proceeded  to  dance  around  me 
in  a  way  that  set  my  head  spinning! 

"'Why,'  said  I,  'that's  not  the  way  we  boxed  when 
I  was  a  boy.  We  used  to  put  our  left  feet  together  and  do 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


129 


our  boxing  across  a  bar,  that  was  held  between  us  by  a 
couple  of  comrades.' 

"  The  look  of  disgust  on  the  professor's  face  should  have 
warned  me  of  impending  trouble — but  it  didn't. 

"  'See  here,  cully,  who's  er  doin'  dis  ere  teachin?  D'ye 
s'pose  I'm  a  goin'  ter  take  enny  sich  slack  from  er  pupil,  hey? 
De  rules  of  dis  ere  gymnasium  don't  'low  no  bar  round  here. 


"  YER   WANT    TER    TAKE    ER    PERSITION  JES'     LIKE   DIS;    SAVVY?" 

See  ?  Ye'd  better  stan'  up  an'  learn  de  bizness — den  yer  kin 
talk.  Ketch  on  ?  Put  up  yer  dukes  now,  'n  shut  yer  trap  ! ' 
"I  was  getting  mad  by  this  time,  in  fact,  I  was  mad,  but 
I  flatter  myself  that  I  can  maintain  my  dignity  and  self- 
respect  under  any  and  all  circumstances — however  trying. 
I  glanced  at  the  professor's  ponderous  '  drive  '  muscles,  and 
determined  that  nothing  he  could  do  or  say,  should  cause  me 
to  forget  that  he  was  but  a  base  hireling — a  mere  slave,  at 


130  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

$10.00  the  dozen  lessons — strictly  in  advance.     And  so  I  held 
my  peace,  as  a  gentleman  should. 

"  The  lesson  now  proceeded,  and  the  professor  drilled 
me  thoroughly  in  the  various  maneuvers  of  his  little  parlor 
game.  Having  concluded  the  purely  technical  details  and 
demonstrated  to  my  entire  satisfaction,  that  he  was  but  a  toy 
in  my  brawny  hands,  O'Donovan  flattered  me  by  saying-  I 
was  very  'clever  wid  de  dukes,  'n  'specially  de  left,'  and 
remarked  that  we  would  'wind  up  wid  a  set-to, 'and  'don't  yer 
be  afraid  ter  mix  wid  me  !  See  ?' 

"  Well,  I  didn't  exactly  see,  but  in  spite  of  his  somewhat 
unsavory  appearance  I  proceeded  to  exemplify  my  interpre- 
tation of  the  term  ' mix',  and  then — I  saw  ! 

"  The  professor  had  an  aggravating  trick  of  holding  his 
left  arm  out  in  such  a  position  that  I  was  compelled  to  run  into 
its  extremity — my  nasal  end  first — every  time  I  made  a  move. 

"After  dallying  with  me  for  a  while,  and  clearly  demon- 
strating the  source  of  those  dark  spots  on  the  gloves,  the 
professor  suddenly  hit  me  a  three-hundred-pound  whack  in 
the  pit  of  my  stomach — I  would  say  '  epigastrium,'  only  that 
would  make  me  feel  worse. 

"  Now,  if  there's  any  anatomical  spot  in  which  the  mem- 
bers of  my  family  are  especially  sensitive,  it's  the  region  of 
the  stomach,  and  in  less  than  a  jiffy  I  was  madder  than  a  hor- 
net. I  didn't  tell  the  professor  how  I  felt,  because  my  supply 
of  breathing  space  was  materially  curtailed  by  his  rather 
abrupt  and  decidedly  deep  exploration  of  my  abdomen.  Feel- 
ing remarks  were  in  order — but  I  wasn't — so  I  was  compelled 
to  omit  the  remarks,  and  take  it  out  in  feeling.  I  was  mad 
enough  to  kill  the  ruffian,  and,  had  the  ethics  of  the  situation 
permitted  it,  I  would  have  called  another 'regular 'doctor  in  con- 
sultation and  despatched  him  at  once — the  professor,  I  mean. 

"  There  was  nothing  to  do,  however,  but  await  an  oppor- 
tunity— and  breath — to  wreak  my  vengeance  upon  the  enemy. 
It  came — or  I  thought  it  did — I  made  a  terrific  sweep  of  my 
strong  right  arm  and — *  *  *  *  *  !  !  !  " 


"  Young  man,  if  anybody  ever  tries  to  convince  you  that 
hypnotism  is  a  fraud,  don't  you  believe  him  !     Jule  says  that 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  131 

I  slipped  and  fell,  but  I  know  better — I  was  hypnotized,  and  I 
know  it !  But  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  why  I  was  ever 
allowed  to  come  out  of  that  trance — it  was  so  blissfully  free 
from  all  the  disagreeable  sensations  I  have  since  had. 

"  When  I  recovered  my  senses,  Jule  was  leaning-  over  me 
with  a  bottle  of  aqua  ammonia,  and  was  liberally  applying-  it 
to  such  parts  of  my  face  as  he  thoug-ht  mig-ht  connect  more 
or  less  remotely  with  my  nostrils.  He  seemed  especially 
interested  in  my  eyes. 

"  '  Well,  old  boy,  you're  coming-  around  at  last,'  said  Jule, 
with  a  sig-h  of  relief.' 

'"Where  am  I? 'I  asked. 

"'Why,  you're  rig-ht  where  you  left  off  this  morning1. 
This  is  the  boxing  room  of  the  gymnasium.' 

'"What  time  is  it?' 

k"  It  is  just  one  o'clock,'  replied  my  g-ood  ang-el. 

"  'And  where  is  the  professor?'  I  ventured. 

"  '  Oh,  he  has  g-one  to  dinner,'  said  Jule. 

"'Truly,'  I  said  musing-ly,  'physical  exercise  is  great 
for  the  appetite — of  the  other  fellow.' 

"On  making-  an  inventory  of  the  various  injuries  I 
received  when  I  fell  into  my  trance,  I  found  that  my  ankle 
was  sprained,  both  of  my  shins  were  scraped  and  bleeding-, 
and  the  back  of  my  head  presented  a  swelling-  as  big-  as  a 
base-ball^  On  further  and  more  careful  investigation,  I  found 
a  suspiciously  tender  place  on  the  left  side  of  my  jaw.  The 
muscles  in  this  vicinity  seemed  quite  stiff  and  lame,  and  I  so 
remarked  to  Jule,  but  he  said  he  supposed  I  must  have 
taken  cold  on  account  of  my  rather  scanty  attire. 

"  'It  has  probably  settled  in  your  neck,  but  you'll  be  all 
rig-ht  in  a  day  or  two,'  said  my  comforter. 

"There  may  have  been  some  doubt  as  to  -what  I  had 
caug-ht,  but  none  whatever  as  to  where  I  had  caug-ht  it. 

"As  I  had  never  heard  of  such  a  condition  occurring-  in 
the  trance  state,  I  was  compelled  to  concur  in  Jule's  diagnosis, 
but  I  couldn't  help  thinking-  of  a  story  of  western  life  that 
seemed  to  fit  my  case: 

"A  prominent  citizen  of  a  Kansas  town,  happened  to 
visit  a  sawmill.  His  curiosity  getting-  the  better  of  his 


132 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


discretion,  he  became  hopelessly  mixed  up  with  a  large 
circular  saw — with  dire  and  fatal  results.  The  fragments 
were  sent  home,  and  as  might  have  been  expected,  the  whole 
town  went  into  the  deepest  mourning.  The  county  paper, 
desirous  of  paying  tribute  to  the  memory  of  a  truly  good  and 
great  citizen,  published  a  long,  fulsome  and  glowing  obituary, 
that  ought  to  have  made  death  welcome  to  any  man.  In  con- 
cluding his  eulogy  of  'our  dear,  departed  friend'  the  editor 
said :  ^ _ 

"'He  was  as  good  ' 
a  man  as  ever  stood  in 
shoe-leather.  He  was 
an  upright  citizen,  a 
master  hand  at  poker, 
a  dead  shot,  a  God- 
fearing Christian,  a 
kind  and  indulgent 


"IT  HAS  PROBABLY  SETTLED  IN  YOUR  NECK." 

father  and  husband,  an  ardent  republican,  and  a  man  whose 
business  capacity  and  integrity  have  never  been  questioned 

— but  he  was  a  d d  fool  on  the  subject  of  circular 

saws. ' 

"As  we  rode  slowly  home  in  a  cab  that  my  friend  kindly 
secured — and  for  which  I  paid,  by  the  way — I  remarked  to 
him  that,  to  the  best  of  my  recollection,  Sandow's  system 
comprised  only  'muscular  movements.' 

"  Jule  cheerfully  admitted  that  such  was  the  fact — I  was 
in  no  mood  to  be  trifled  with. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  133 

"'Such  being-  the  case,' I  continued,  'there  is  really  no 
urgent  necessity  of  any  side  issues  for  the  purpose  of  "worry- 
ing- off  fat,"  and  we  will  not  seek  further  experience  in  that 
direction.  Quick  movements,  sir,  may  be  all  right  for  some 
persons,  but  they  are  certainly  contraindicated  in  individuals, 
who,  like  myself,  are  subject  to  the  hypnotic  state. 

"  "  Now, Jule,'  I  further  remarked,  'I  have  no  objections 
to  buying-  you  a  small  bottle,  but  I  will  do  so  only  on  condi- 
tions. In  the  first  place,  I  would  suggest  that  you  keep  your 
observations  of  the  results  of  "quick  movements"  to  your- 
self— I  object  to  being  the  subject  of  clinical  reports.  It 
would,  moreover,  be  injurious  to  my  professional  reputation, 
if  it  should  ever  become  known  that  I  am  subject  to  attacks 
such  as  the  one  I  have  to-day  experienced. 

"  '  Secondly,  I  want  you  to  swear  to  the  lie  I  am  going  to 
tell  my  wife.  It  is  true  that  I  am  not  as  young1  as  I  once  was, 
but  she  still  loves  me,  and  I  think  respects  me,  and  I  don't 
care  to  have  her  .know  what  a  monumental  ass  I  am.' 

"Jule  agreed — he'll  do  anything-  for  a  bottle  of  wine — 
and  to  his  credit  I  will  say  that  I  believe  he  will  keep  his 
promise.  He  selected  'Mumm' — and  that  speaks  well  for  his 
discretion. 

"As  Jule  left  me  in  the  tender  care  of  my  wife,  he  could 
not  forbear  a  final  Parthian  shaft,  and  called  out — 'By  the 
way,  old  man,  what  shall  I  say  to  the  professor  ?  ' 

'"Tell  him  to  keep  the  change!'  I  yelled." 


"But  I  am  in  a  fair  way  to  get  about  again,  my  boy, 
although  even  now,  I  feel  much  as  did  a  certain  negro  down 
in  Virginia,  once  upon  a  time.  He  was  hobbling  along  the 
street  on  a  cane  one  morning,  looking  as  woe-begone  as  only 
a  suffering  darky  can.  Around  his  head  he  wore  a  bandage 
upon  which  dried  traces  of  blood  were  plainly  visible  and 
which  covered  one  of  his  eyes.  One  arm  was  supported  in 
a  sling,  and  his  left  foot  was  swathed  in  wrappings  of  red 
flannel.  Taken  all  in  all,  the  expression  'shattered,'  would 
have  fitted  him  better  than  most  anything. 

"As  our  colored  friend  limped  painfully  along,  he  met 
his  pastor,  who  thus  accosted  him: 


134  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  Hallo  dar,  br'er  Jo'nsing!  how  yo'  is  sah  ?  ' 

"  'I'se  right  po'ly  thankee  Eldah  Smif,  right  po'ly  sah.' 

"'W'y,  br'er  Jo'nsing,  yo'  aint  lukin'  rig-ht  peart,  is 
yo'?  Whut's  de  mattah,  hez  yo'  done  bin  hab'in  er  fall, 
sah?' 

"'Hez  I  done  bin  hab'in  er  fall!  Whut  duz  ma  'pear- 
ance  luk  like,  sah,  s'if  I'd  done  bin  tumblin'  in  de  wattah? 
Cos'e  I'se  bin  hab'in  er  fall;  doan'  I  luk  like  it?' 

"  '  Dat's  berry  trubblesum,  br'er  Jo'nsing-,  berry  trubble- 
sum  'ndeed  sah,  but  de  good  Lawd  done  'spenses  trubble 
eben  unto  de  Gawd-f  earin  man.  How  did  it  happen  sah  ? 

"  '  Well,  yo'  see  eldah,  I  wuz  er  wuk'n  up  hyah  on  Marse 
Thomps'nses'  house  'n  I  wuz  er  kar'yin  er  hod  er  bricks  up 
de  laddah  ter  de  fo'th  flo',  when  de  top  rung  er  de  ole  laddah 
done  bruk,  'n  let  me  down,  kerchunk,  ter  de  groun',  wid  de 
hod  on  top  o'  me!  Ez  I  went  down,  I  done  hit  de  stag-in' 
an'  bruk  dis  yeh  ahm  'n  brack'd  dis  yeh  eye,  'n  los'  dis  eah, 
an'  fo'  frunt  teef,  an'  done  strain  dis  ankle,  an'  I  'clar  ter  gud- 
ness  eldah,  if  it  hadn'  bin  fo'  lightin'  on  ma  hed  on  er  pile  er 
bricks  dat  kine  er  bruk  ma  fall,  I'se  feared  sum 'pin  serious 
wud  er  happen'd  sho's  yo'  bawn,sah  !' 

"  Since  I  have  been  lying-  around  the  house  in  this  deplor- 
able condition,  I  have  wondered  whether  my  suffering's  were 
not  retributive  to  a  certain  extent.  You  see,  my  boy,  in  the 
old'  days  when  I  was  a  rollicking  youth,  I  used  to  play  some 
sad  pranks,  with  little  regard  for  persons— or  their  feelings 
either  for  that  matter. 

"I  remember  one  instance  in  particular,  that  bears 
rather  pertinently  upon  my  present  condition  and  the  man- 
ner-of  its  acquirement : 

"  When  I  was  a  young  man  of  twenty  or  thereabouts,  I 
was  a  member  of  an  amateur  athletic  association — an  orna- 
mental member  by  the  way,  for  I  always  did  hate  exertion. 
Peaceful  repose  was  about  my  style,  and  the  only  thing  that 
would  arouse  me  from  my  serene  and  blissful  state  of  innoc- 
uousness,  was  the  opportunity  of  playing  a  practical  joke — 
in  the  perpetration  of  which  I  was  really  quite  energetic. 

"  One  of  my  chums  brought  a  friend  with  him  to  visit  our 
club  rooms  one  day,  who,  he  said,  was  from  Arizona.  The 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  135 

fellow  certainly  looked  like  it,  for  if  he  wasn't  a  wild  and 
woolly  'rustler'  I  don't  know  the  breed. 

"  We  did  the  best  we  could  to  entertain  our  guest,  and  as 
he  was  to  be  in  the  city  several  days,  we  gave  him  an  endless 
variety  of  amusements. 

"I  had  for  some  time  been  acknowledged  to  be  the  most 
expert  billiard  player  in  the  club,  and  as  a  consequence,  some 
of  the  members  were  a  trifle  jealous  of  my  numerous  victories. 
Not  only  were  they  jealous,  but  as  the  sequence  proves,  some 
of  them  were  anxious  to  square  accounts  with  me. 

"One  evening,  a  game  of  billiards  was  proposed,  and  I 
was  deputized  to  entertain  our  western  friend — to  my  sub- 
sequent sorrow. 

"I  don't  know  where  that  fellow  learned  the  game,  but 
he  certainly  handled  those  balls  in  a  manner  I  had  never  seen 
equalled.  He  did  not  show  his  skill,  however,  until  he  had 
beaten  me  a  number  of  games  by  very  small  margins,  after 
which  he  fairly  ran  away  from  me. 

"I  was  compelled  to  submit  gracefully,  but  I  confess 
that  I  experienced  a  '  skinned '  sensation  which  was  new  to 
me.  The  boys  were  merciless,  and  the  amount  of  treating 
I  was  compelled  to  do,  bade  fair  to  bankrupt  me. 

"I  might  have  tolerated  the  chaffing  I  received  from  my 
friends,  but  the  insufferably  patronizing  air  subsequently 
assumed  by  that  cow-boy,  drove  me  wild,  and  I  resolved  to  be 
revenged. 

"  I  had  noticed  that  my  woolly  friend  was  so  inflated  with 
his  own  importance,  that  he  considered  himself  unapproach- 
able in  everything  that  happened  to  be  suggested.  Taking 
my  cue  from  this,  I  skillfully  directed  the  conversation  into 
the  subject  of  athletics.  Was  he  at  home  in  athletics?  Well, 
I  should  say  he  was! — according  to  his  own  account.  Wrest- 
ling? Why  he  could  throw  any  man  in  his  neck  of  the  woods! 
Boxing?  Whew!  That  was  the  exercise  he  was  brought  up 
on.  As  for  lifting  —  Samson  wasn't  a  circumstance! 

"  The  next  evening  I  brought  a  guest  to  the  club.  I 
introduced  him  as  my  'cousin',  who  had  injured  himself  by 
overstudy  and  was  going  to  California  for  his  health.  He 
was  a  quiet,  delicate-looking  little  chap,  not  much  bigger  than 


136  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

a  pint  of  cider,  and  I  was  naturally  very  solicitous  about  him. 
By  careful  and  watchful  attention  during  his  visit  to  the  club 
I  managed  to  keep  him  sober — assuring  the  members  that 
his  health  would  not  permit  indulgence  in  stimulants. 

"  During  the  evening  I  beguiled  the  boys  into  the  gym- 
nasium. Lying  in  plain  sight  was  a  set  of  boxing  gloves,  and 
as  I  had  anticipated,  the  wild  westerner  at  once  pounced  upon 
them  and  began  bragging  as  usual. 

"  One  thing  led  to  another,  and  the  slab-sided  giant  began 
to  fairly  coax  someone  to  give  him  a  chance  to  show  his  skill. 
My  '  cousin '  asked  if  he  might  try  the  game,  and  in  spite  of 
my  pitiful  entreaties  insisted  on  putting  on  the  gloves.  At 
last  I  yielded,  after  taking  the  westerner  aside  and  imploring 
him  to  be  careful  not  to  hurt  the  lad.  He  winked  significantly 
at  his  friends,  and  solemnly  promised  that  he  would  be  as 
gentle  as  a  Summer  breeze — a  promise  that  he  had  no  par- 
ticular difficulty  in  keeping. 

"The  contestants  faced  each  other,  and  I  assure  you  the 
sight  was  as  amusing  as  a  Punch  and  Judy  show.  As  I  had 
expected,  the  big  animal  went  at  my  protege  like  a  cyclone. 
For  a  moment,  I  was  somewhat  afraid  that  my  innocent  little 
joke  was  going  to  be  spoiled — but  itwrasn't.  Exasperated  be- 
yond endurance  by  his  failure  to  annihilate  the  little  chap,  the 
woolly  one  made  a  wild  rush  and  a  terrible  swing  at  him,  that, 
had  it  struck  the  mark,  would  then  and  there  have  resulted 
in  a  homicide!  But  'twas  different,  quite.  Nobody  could  see 
exactly  how  it  happened,  but  the  big  braggart  was  suddenly 
raised  from  the  floor  and  landed  squarely  upon  his  back,  ten 
feet  away,  where  he  lay  like  a  log! 

"I  was  afraid  the  fellow  would  never  revive,  and  I  still 
have  my  doubts  as  to  whether  what  little  sense  he  had,  ever 
did  come  back  to  him,  but  he  finally  recovered  sufficiently  to 
return  to  his  hotel,  where  he  was  compelled  to  remain  in 
seclusion  until  the  tumorous  swelling  that  had  developed  on 
his  jaw  subsided. 

"As  I  paid  my  'cousin 'for  his  share  of  the  performance, 
I  remarked  that  he  had  not  only  earned  his  money  but  I  had 
certainly  received  the  quid  pro  quo.  Whereupon  the 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


137 


ex-feather-weight  remarked,  'Say,  Doc,  send  for  me  whenever 
you've  got  another  mark.' 

"As  I  sneaked  back  to  the  gymnasium,  ripped  open  one  of 
the  gloves  that  my  'cousin'  wore,  and  poured  out  the  handful 
of  fine  birdshot  that  I  had  put  in  it — 'just  before  the  battle 
mother' — I  couldn't  help  saying — 'He  laughs  best  who 
lausfhs  last!'  " 


"  Well,  my  boy,  it  is  after  eleven  o'clock,  and  I  can  plainly 
see  that  you  are  tired  and  sleepy.     You  can  now  appreciate 
the  danger  of  inducing  me  to  become  reminiscent. 
"Good  nig-ht." 


LARRY'S    CONTRIBUTIONS    TO    "FISHOLOGY" 
AND  THE  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND. 


V  all  the    charmers   thit    iver 

was  seen — 
No  matther  -what  their  com/' 

plixion  or  sthoyle, 
There's  divil  a  wan  loike  me 

ould  dhudeen, 
Ez  ye   wud    know   if    ye'd 

shmoke  it  awhoile. 


Sure  it's  not  very  han'sum  nor  yit  very  big — 

The  bowl  it  is  clumsy  an'  black  j 

The  shtem  is  a  hole  troo  a  bit  uv  a  thwig; 

In  its  soide  is  a  turrible  crack ! 

But,  tho'  it's  not  purthy,  its  flavor  is  noice; 

It's  the  greatesht  poipe  thit  iver  was  seen, 

Its  smell  is  far  swater  nor  flowers  or  shpoice — 

There's  nothin*  thit  shmokes  loike  me  ould  dhudeen ! 


THIS  DO   BE  AISIER  WORRUK   NOR   FISHIX'. 


LARRY'S  CONTRIBUTIONS  TO  "FISHOLOGY"  AND 
THE  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND, 


T  so  happened  that,  during-  the 
afternoon,  I  had  accompanied  a 
~\  medical  friend  to  a  trial  in  the 
Circuit    court,     in    which     he 
testified    as  an    expert.     The 
case  was  one  of  alleged  mal- 
practice   broug-ht    against    a 
prominent    opthalmologist — a 
man  of  excellent  judg-ment  and 
unexceptionable  professional 
and  scientific  standing-. 
It  appeared  that,  according  to  the  evidence,  the  complain- 
ant had  been  a  charity  patient  at  a  well  known  institution  of 
this  city,  devoted  to  the  treatment  of  diseases  of  the  eye  and 
ear. 

The  case  was  primarily  under  the  charge  of  a  dis- 
tinguished professor  of  opthalmology  in  one  of  our  most 
famous  medical  colleges.  The  professor,  being  compelled  to 
leave  the  city  for  a  few  days,  left  the  case  under  the  care  of 
a  colleague — the  defendant  in  the  malpractice  suit — also  a 
professor  of  opthalmology  in  a  reputable  medical  school. 

The  testimony  showed  that  the  gentleman  who  was  the 
victim  of  the  patient's  malevolence,  had  simply  carried  out  the 
treatment  originally  prescribed  by  the  physician  who  left  the 
case  in  his  charge. 

There  wras  apparently  no  reason  for  apprehension  regard- 
ing1 the  case,  but,  unfortunately,  both  for  patient  and 
physician,  a  serious  complication  arose  very  shortly  after  the 
departure  of  the  gentleman  to  whom  the  case  properly 
belonged,  and  resulted  in  the  loss  of  one  of  the  patient's  eyes. 


144  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  proving-  that  the  disaster  was 
due  to  conditions  over  which  the  physician  had  no  control,  and 
the  charge  of  malpractice  was  therefore  not  sustained. 

I  was  much  gratified  with  the  outcome  of  the  suit,  and, 
when  I  saw  Doctor  Weymouth,  I  mentioned  the  case  to  him, 
at  the  same  time  commenting  on  the  good  fortune  of  the 
defendant. 

There  are  few  things  that  arouse  my  friend's  temper, 
but  it  was  immediately  evident  that  the  subject  of  malprac- 
tice suits  was  an  especially  sensitive  point  with  him.  I  shall 
not  try  to  present  his  remarks  in  full ;  I  will,  however,  endea- 
vor to  give  their  salient  features,  leaving-  out  his  expletives 
and  most  of  his  exclamation  points. 


"  The  doctor  was  fortunate  to  get  off  so  easily.  The 
members  of  that  jury  should  each  be  presented  with  a  halo. 
It  is  seldom  that  a  jury  has  intelligence  enough  to  weigh 
medical  evidence,  or  for  that  matter,  honesty  enough  to  try  to 
do  so.  The  average  jury  is  against  the  doctor  in  malpractice 
suits,  despite  the  evidence.  It  often  happens  that  one  or 
more  of  the  jurymen  has  a  fancied  grievance  against  some 
doctor  or  other;  then  woe  betide  the  luckless  victim  of  the 
malpractice  suit! 

"The  alleged  grievance  usually  consists  in  the  fact  that 
the  doctor's  ledger  shows  up  a  large  balance  due  him  from 
the  aggrieved  juryman,  for  professional  services.  The  same 
grievance  sometimes  influences  one  or  more  members  of  the 
jury  when  a  doptor  sues  for  his  fees. 

"Malpractice  suits,  with  very  few  exceptions,  are  the 
greatest  outrages  ever  tolerated  by  a  civilized  community. 
There  is  not  one  case  in  a  hundred,  in  which  a  suit  for  mal- 
practice is  justified  by  the  facts.  Indeed,  it  is  my  own  be- 
lief that  not  one  case  in  a  thousand,  in  which  a  malpractice 
suit  is  brought  against  a  reputable  medical  man,  is  founded 
upon  either  justice,  reason  or  scientific  facts. 

"There  are  several  reasons  why  malpractice  suits  are 
frequent : 

"One  of  the  most  important  is  their  cheapness  to  the 
complainant.  It  is  a  simple  matter  to  find  an  alleged  lawyer 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  145 

who  will  bring-  suit  on  a  contingent  fee,  irrespective  of  the 
merits  of  the  case — as  I  have  said,  there  is  rarely  a  case  that 
has  any  merit  in  it.  Reputable  lawyers  realize  this,  and  sel- 
dom take  such  cases.  It  costs  but  a  trifle — about  ten  dollars,  I 
believe — to  bring-  suit,  and  many  a  poor  doctor  has  allowed 
himself  to  be  sandbag-g-ed  out  of  considerable  of  his  hard- 
earned  money,  by  a  compromise,  rather  than  underg-o  the 
expense  and  loss  of  reputation  incidental  to  a  suit  for  alleg-ed 
damages. 

"I  happen  to  know  something-  about  the  case  you  have 
mentioned.  There  never  was  a  more  damnable  farce  than 
the  prosecution  of  that  suit!  A  totally  irresponsible  patient 
bring's  suit  against  a  physician,  who  is  undeniably  compe- 
tent, for  alleged  malpractice  sustained  while  under  treatment 
at  a  charitable  infirmary!  It  costs  practically  nothing  to 
bring  the  suit,  and  although  the  doctor  successfully  fights 
the  attempt  at  blackmail,  even  his  success  is  expensive — the 
case  costs  him  thousands  of  dollars,  both  in  actual  outlay  of 
money  and  loss  of  reputation.  Our  brilliant  successes  may 
not  be  exploited,  but  our  failures  and  alleged  mistakes  are 
heralded  to  the  farthest  parts  of  the  earth. 

"By  no  means  the  least  important  of  the  influences  that 
foster  malpractice  suits,  is  the  readiness  with  which  some 
physicians  can  be  induced  to  criticise  one  another.  Behind 
many  a  case  of  alleged  malpractice,  stands  an  unethical, 
ignorant,  or  venomous  doctor.  A  certain  proportion  of 
medical  practitioners — a  small  proportion,  thank  fortune! — 
is  composed  of  men  who  are  so  egotistic  as  to  assume  that 
any  departure  from  their  own  arbitrary  standards  consti- 
tutes gross  malpractice.  Such  egotism  would  simply  inspire 
pity,  if  its  victims  would  only  keep  their  opinions  to  them- 
selves, but  this  is  not  in  accord  with  their  ideas  of  their 
own  importance — they  must  needs  criticise  before  an  audi- 
ence. Pray  do  not  think  it  is  only  the  obscure  or  disreputa- 
ble practitioner  who  acts  in  this  unseemly  manner — I  could 
give  you  some  names  of  such  men  that  would  surprise  you. 

"Strange  as  it  may  seem,  it  is  never  difficult  to  secure 
alleged  experts  who  will  go  upon  the  witness  stand  and  testify 
against  a  professional  brother  in  a  suit  for  malpractice.  Some 


146  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

of  them  achieve  in  this  manner,  a  publicity  they  would 
otherwise  never  acquire — and  they  make  the  most  of  the 
opportunity  I  assure  you. 

"I  will  admit  that  physicians  are  often  trapped  into 
criticisms  of  one  another.  It  is  quite  easy  to  be  innocently 
drawn  into  an  expression  of  opinion  that  is  construed  as  a 
criticism  of  the  physician  who  has  previously  had  charge  of 
a  case.  Patients  often  accomplish  this,  by  relating1  the  'abuse' 
they  have  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  gentleman  in  whose 
care  they  have  been,  until  by  a  streak  of  good  fortune  they 
heard  of  the  'great  doctor' — yourself. 

"Beware  how  you  sympathize  with  such  people!  Call 
up  your  predecessor  by  telephone,  and  ascertain  how  much 
the  patient  owes  him  —  then  charge  cash  fees.  Remem- 
ber that  the  patient  who  defrauds  and  criticises  another  phy- 
sician, will  also  defraud  and  criticise  you — you  are  no  better 
and  perhaps  no  more  skillful  than  he,  nor  will  the  patient 
appreciate  you  one  whit  more  than  he  did  your  confrere.  Do 
not  be  egotistic  and  you  will  make  few  mistakes  in  this 
direction.  Educated,scientific  physicians  average  very  much 
alike,  and  one  must  be  careful  how  he  assumes  an  air  of 
superiority  in  the  presence  of  a  disgruntled  patient. 

"Reputable  physicians  should  stand  by  their  brethren 
through  thick  and  thin.  When  you  enter  practice  let  your 
motto  be,  'My  brother  practitioner  against  the  world!'  This 
principle,  consistently  followed,  will  do  more  to  prevent  mal- 
practice suits  than  anything  I  know  of.  When  the  matter  of 
scientific  treatment  of  disease  is  under  dispute,  do  not  forget 
that  your  brother  physician  is  much  more  likely  to  be  right 
than  a  disgruntled,  ignorant,  and  perhaps  malevolent  lay- 
man. 

"Speaking  of  juries;— did  you  ever  consider  the  injustice 
of  selecting  a  jury  of  laymen — and  such  laymen  as  a  rule — to 
try  a  malpractice  suit?  A  jury  of  our  'peers,'  forsooth! 
Just  think  of  it ! 

"But  I  must  not  consume  the  entire  evening  discussing 
malpractice  suits;  the  hookah  is  bubbling  over  with  good 
nature  to-night  and,  its  g-enial  air  suggests  that  the  time  for 
our  usual  story  has  arrived. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  147 

"As  you  well  know,  I  have  a  keen  appreciation  of  unique 
characters.  I  have  derived  more  pleasure  from  the  indul- 
gence of  my  penchant  for  their  study  than  from  any  or- 
dinary amusement.  The  story  that  I  propose  to  relate  to 
you,  is  the  result  of  my  association  with  a  character  who  is 
at  once  amusing-  and  entertaining1.  Were  we  to  take  his  own 
word  for  it,  he  might  even  be  regarded  as  instructive,  as  the 
sequel  will  show: 

"Until  recent  years  it  was  my  custom  to  take  a  few  days 
duck  hunting-  among-  the  Wisconsin  lakes.  I  cannot  say  that 
I  was  ever  a  very  successful  or  enthusiastic  sportsman, 
indeed,  my  indulg-ence  was  more  because  of  a  sense  of  the 
necessity  of  a  holiday,  than  because  I  was  fond  of  the  expo- 
sure to  the  raw  winds  and  rainy  weather  that  usually  charac- 
terize the  duck  shooting-  season,  for  the  sake  of  a  few  miser- 
able birds. 

"Shooting-  wild  fowl  is  always  hard  work,  but  I  lessened 
my  labors  considerably  by  employing-  g-uides  to  row  me  about. 
My  favorite  g-uide  was  a  middle-ag-ed  Irishman  by  the  name 
of  Larry  Powers. 

"  My  Irish  friend  had  several  characteristics  that  made 
him  invaluable  to  me.  He  smoked  such  strong-  tobacco  in  his 
old,  black  dhudeen,  that  the  festive  mosquito  came  not  forth 
from  his  lair,  and  he  had  such  a  constant  thirst  that  the  well- 
filled  flask  which  I  always  carried  with  me — in  case  of  heart 
failure, you  know — was  never  negiected. 

"No  one  knew  the  choice  shooting-  grounds  better  than 
Larry,  and  no  one  knew  '  duckolog-y '  better  than  he. 

"Sitting-  in  my  staunch  little  boat,  watching-  my  decoys 
in  the  hope  that  some  silly  duck  would  alig-ht  among-  them, 
and  inhaling- the  rich  aroma  of  Larry's  spirited  breath  and  old 
black  pipe  while  the  wind  whistled  around  my  shivering 
form,  was  as  near  the  ideal  of  bliss  as  one  could  possibly 
attain — in  duck  hunting.  When  the  ducks  did  not  respond 
to  the  seductive  wiles  of  my  dignified  decoys,  life  was  still 
endurable,  for  Larry  was  a  most  agreeable  companion,  and 
gave  me  very  valuable  and  entertaining  information  upon  the 
most  varied  subjects. 


148  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"One  morning-,  after  an  hour  of  fruitless  waiting-  for 
ducks,  Larry  proceeded  to  g-ive  me  a  didactic  lecture  on  fish- 
ing-, coloring-  his  remarks  by  the  most  elaborate  and  florid 
profanity  I  had  ever  heard.  Now,  profanity  has  nothing-  re- 
markable about  it  as  a  rule,  but  my  Irish  friend  was  evi- 
dently a  past  master  in  the  art  of  swearing-,  and  as  I  cannot 
do  him  justice,  I  shall  not  attempt  a  verbatim  account  of  his 
remarks — in  that  particular  direction  at  least. 

"  '  Well,Larry,  I  said,  'I  seem  to  be  having-  bad  luck  this 
morning-.  I  mig-ht  better  have  taken  a  pole  and  g-one  fishing-, 
even  thoug-h  it  is  out  of  season.' 

"'Oh  well,  sorr,  replied  Larry  consolingly,  'this  do  be 
aisier  worruk  nor  fishin',  aven  in  the  saison.  Inny  wan  kin 
shoot  docks,  but  beg-orra,  it  takes  plinty  of  brains  to  ketch 
fish!' 

"'Indeed, sir,  and  why  are  brains  so  essential  in  fishing-?' 
I  asked,  ig-noring-  the  inferential  and  somewhat  dubious  com- 
pliment. 

"I  saw  that  Larry  did  not  quite  comprehend  my  ques- 
tion, so  I  remodeled  it  a  little  : 

"  'Why  does  one  need  so  much  brains  in  fishing-,  Larry?' 

"  'That's  aisy  'noug-h  t'  ixplain,  sorr.  A  fish  is  so  dom 
smart,  he  do  bes  afther  havin'  more  brains  nor  a  man.' 

"  'Why,  I  was  not  aware  that  fish  had  any  particular 
amount  of  brains,'  I  said. 

"'Sure,  an'  didn't  ye  know  that,  docthor?'  said  Larry, 
wondering-ly,  and,  I  thought,  somewhat  sympathetically.  Oi 
shposed  all  the  docthors  knowed  thit  fishes  has  plinty  of 
brains.  Why  sorr,  if  they  didn't  have  no  brains,  how  the 
divil  cud  they  iver  do  so  much  thinkin'. 

"  '  Thinking- ! '  I  exclaimed,  '  Do  fish  ever  think  ? ' 

"  'Do  they  think,  sorr ?-do-they-th ink?'  he  replied,  with 
a  fine  show  of  pity  for  my  startling-  ig-norance,  '  well,  Oi  shud 
think  they  did  think !  an'  don't  ye  iver  be  afther  thinkin'  they 
don't  think,  sorr!' 

"'Well,  Larry,'  I  said,  'I  am  not  g-oing-  to  dispute  your 
knowledg-e  of  "fisholog-y,"  but  pray  enlig-hten  me  on  a  subject 
on  which  I  confess  the  densest  ig-norance,  by  informing-  me 
how  you  know  that  fish  think.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


149 


"'Sure,  an'  Oi  will,  sorr!  Well — jist  shpose  thit  ye're 
g-oin'  out  fishin'.  Ye  takes  some  foine  bait  along-  wid  yez,  but 
ye  don't  put  none  on  the  hook.  The  fish  he  conies  up  d'  ye 


"BE   JABBERS,    Ol'M    THINKIN'    THERE'S  .A    HOOK    IN    THAT    FELLER'S 

BELLY ! " 

moind,  an'  sees  the  hook,  an'  thinks  he  sees  his  breakfasht. 
An'  mebbe  ye  think  ye'll  ketch  him  but  ye  won't  thin.  He's 
too  dom'd  shmart  fer  yez,that's  pfwat  he  is!  The  fish  comes 
up  an'  shmells  the  hook  an'  thin  he  thinks  to  himsilf,  "  That 


150  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

hook's  bare,  begorra,  an'  Oi  think  Oi  won't  shwally  it" — an' 
away  he  goes,  an'  ye  don't  ketch  him  sorr!' 

"  'Thin  yez  pulls  up  yer  hook  an'  puts  some  bait  on  it,  an' 
ye  think  sure  ye'll  ketch  him  this  toime,  but  be  jabbers  the 
fish  don't  think  so  himsilf !  He  jist  luks  at  the  bait  an'  thin 
he  thinks  to  himsilf,  "Be  the  powers!  that  thing's  dead,  an'  Oi 
don't  blave  I'll  thry  it  at  all,  at  all,"  an'  away  he  goes,  an'  thin 
ye're  beginnin'  to  think  the  little  baste  is  too  shmart  fer  yez!' 

"  '  Thin  yez  put  some  frish  bait  on  the  hook,  sorr,  an'  ye 
thrun  it  away  out  in  the  wather,  an'  ye  moves  it  up  an'  down 
an'  think  ye'll  ketch  the  fish — an'  mebbe  he  do  bes  afther 
thinkin'  so  too — an'  thin  agin,  mebbe  he  don't.' 

'"Well,  the  fish  he  thinks  he  sees  his  breakfasht  agin, 
an'  he  conies  up  an'  siz  to  himsilf,  "Howly  Moses!  Oi  think 
that  little  divil's  aloive  an'  Oi  think  Oi'll  swally  him" — an'  thin 
p'raps  ye  ketch  him.  But  sometoimes  he  siz  to  himsilf  siz  he, 
"Be  jabbers!  Oi'm  thinkin'  there's  a  hook  in  that  feller's 
belly,  an'  Oi  don't  think  Oi'll  swally  him  at  all  at  all,  Oi'll  jist 
draw  him  off 'n  the  hook,  that's  pfwat  Oi'll  do."  An'  thin 
mebbe  ye  think  ye've  got  him,  but  be  the  poiper  thit  played 
before  Moses,  yez  don't  git  a  shmell  of  the  spalpeen !' 

" '  Yis,sorr,  fishes  has  plinty  of  brains.  Tare  an'  ouns 
sorr!  they  do  bes  loike  the  Oirishman's  owl,  they  don't  talk 
much,  but  be  the  howly  Pope,  they're  afther  kapin  up  a 
divil  of  a  thinkin'  all  the  whoile!' 

"I  was  forced  to  admit  that  Larry  had  most  effectually 
proven  his  case." 

"'Larry,'  I  said,  'I  have  noticed  with  some  solicitude, 
that  you  are  addicted  to  the  reckless  use  of  profanity.  You 
swear  upon  the  average,  with  every  other  breath.  I  surmise 
that  you  are  a  catholic,  and  I  am  surprised  that  you  so  entirely 
disregard  the  tenets  of  your  religion.' 

"  'Well,  docthor,'  replied  Larry,  'Oi'm  not  the  bist  cath- 
olic in  the  worruld,  that's  a  fact.  Oi'm  afraid  that  Oi've  back- 
shlided  sorr,  but  begorra,  Oi've  had  religion  this  long  toime!' 

"  '  Granted  that  you  have  backslid,  Larry,  I  suppose  that 
you  entertain,even  now,  distinct  and  positive  beliefs  on  some 
religious  subjects,  do  you  not  ? 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  151 

"  '  Pfwat's  that  ye  say,sorr?'  asked  Larry,  with  mouth 
agape. 

"  'Why,  Larry,'  I  replied,  'I  want  to  know  if  you  really 
believe  in  anything-  of  a  religious  nature.' 

'"Oh!  is  that  it,  sorr?  Sure,  an'  Oi  b'lave  in  a  gre't 
minny  things!' 

'"Ah,  indeed!  would  you  mind  mentioning1  some  of  them?' 

"  '  Well,'  said  Larry,  'there's  the  Howly  Virgin,  an'  the 
Pope,  an'  the  blessed  shamrock,  an'  a  hull  lot  o'  thing's  like  thim, 
thit  Oi  b'lave  in,  sorr.  Faith,  an'  Oi  cudn't  tell  yez  the  hull  of 
'em  in  a  wake ! ' 

"'Oh,  that  will  be  enough  for  the  sake  of  argument, 
Larry.  Now,'  I  said,  'would  you  mind  giving  me  some  idea 
of  the  foundation  of  your  faith  ?  Of  course,  I  can  readily 
understand  your  grounds  for  belief  in  the  Holy  Virgin  and 
the  Pope,  but  I  am  at  loss  to  know  why  the  shamrock  should 
be  part  of  your  religious  creed — that  point  is  new  to  me. 
Indeed,  I  have  never  quite  understood  why  the  shamrock  is 
the  national  plant  of  the  Emerald  Isle.  To  be  sure,  I  have  a 
slight  knowledge  of  the  subject  from  my  historical  reading, 
but  I  should  like  some  definite  information  from  so  excellent 
an  authority  as  yourself.' 

"It  was  evident  that  Larry  was  not  capable  of  following 
my  question  intelligently,  for  he  sat  staring  at  me  in  helpless, 
wild-eyed  bewilderment. 

"  '  Plaze  sorr,  an'  pfwat  d'  ye  mane  ?'  he  asked. 

"  '  Why,  I  want  to  know  what  the  shamrock  has  to  do 
with  your  religion,  and  why  it  is  the  particular  emblem  of  old 
Ireland  that  inspires  every  loyal  Irish  heart,'  I  replied. 

"  'Sure,  an'  don't  ye  know  that, sorr?'  he  exclaimed,  look- 
ing at  me  amazedly. 

"  'Didn't  yez  iver  hear  about  that?  It  was  Saint  Path- 
rick  himsilf,  thit  made  the  shamrock  the  chief  vig'table  of 
ould  Oireland — barrin'  the  pratie.  D'ye  moind  St.  Pathrick, 
Docthor?' 

"  'I  have  heard  of  him,  Larry,  if  that's  what  you  mean.' 
I  answered. 

"  '  Well,  thin,  ye  knows  all  about  how  he  thrun  all  the 
shnakes  an'  frogs  out  o'  the  ould  sod.  But  p'raps  yez  niver 


152  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

heard  about  the  giants,  thit  th'  ould  feller  thrun  out  at 
the  same  toime?' 

"  '  Then  there  are  giants  in  Ireland,  Larry  ? '  I  asked. 

"  '  No,  sorr,  divil  a  wan  at  the  prisint  toime!'  he  replied, 
in  evident  disgust.  'Oi  don't  mane  thit  they  do  bes  afther 
havin' giants  over  there  now  sorr,  but  in  thim  days  there  was 
slathers  o'  giants  in  Oireland,  an'  ivery  dom'd  wan  o'  thim 
was  a  doorty  ould  hay  then. 

"  '  Well,  sorr,  the  Howly  Saint  Pathrick  was  a  purthy 
shmart  ould  divil,  an'  he  heard  about  thim  frogs  an'  thim 
shnakes  an'  the  haythen  giants  thit  was  over  in  th'  ould 
counthry  sorr,  an'  he  siz  to  himsilf,  "Begorra!"  siz  he,  "Oi'll 
be  afther  goin'  over  there  an'  chasin'  all  o'  thim  riptyles  into 
the  say,  an'  Oi'll  convert  ivery  dom'd  haythen  in  the  hull 
oyland,  an'  don't  ye  forgit  it!"  With  that,  sorr,  th'ould  man 
got  aboord  his  steam  yacht,  thit  was  foiner  thin  inny  jook's, 
an'  he  shlips  over  to  Oireland  rale  airly  wan  mornin',  before 
inny  o'  thim  shnakes  an'  frogs  had  thought  o'  their  break- 
fashts  yit,  an'  phwat  does  he  do  but  chase  the  whole  pack  o' 
thim  into  the  say,  an'  that's  pfwy  yez  can't  foind  inny  o'  thim 
bastes  in  the  hull  counthry  now, sorr.' 

"'And  are  there  really  none  to  be  found  now-a-days, 
Larry  ? '  I  asked. 

"  '  Divil  a  wan,  sorr,  divil  a  wan! '  he  replied. 

"  'An'  thin,  after  th'  ould  saint  had  got  through  clanin' 
house,  an'  the  frogs  an'  shnakes  was  all  swally 'd  be  the  sharks 
an'  the  porpusses,  he  siz  to  himsilf  siz  he,  "Now,Oi'll  be 
afther  takin'  a  gre't  big  fall  out  o'  thim  giants!  An'  be  the 
howly  shmoke!  if  the  dom'd  haythen  divils  don't  git  converted, 
an'  let  me  baptoise  thim  in  the  howly  water,  Oi'll  par'lyze  the 
hull  pack  o'  thim!" 

"  'Well,  sorr,  there  was  a  big  gango'  thim  haythen  giants, 
an'  it  took  about  a  wake,  before  the  howly  saint  got  aroun'  to 
thim  all,  but  pfwen  he  did  strike  wan  o'  thim  fellers,  he 
ayther  got  converted  quicker  thin  if  the  divil  was  afther  him, 
or  th'  ould  man  jist  poonched  him  in  the  liver  wid  a  big  shtick 
wid  an  oiron  prod  on  th'  ind  av  it,  'till  he  ayther  was  baptoised 
or  got  crowded  clane  off'n  th'  oyland  into  the  say  !' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  153 

"  '  Well,'  I  remarked,  '  the  holy  saint  was  quite  radical  in 
his  methods,  to  say  the  least.  I  presume  that  he  converted 
them  all.  Most  men  would  have  accepted  religion  without 
argument,  under  the  persuasion  of  the  good  man's  iron 
prod.' 

"  '  So  yez  might  think,  sorr,  so  yez  might  think,  but  there 
was  wan  ould  feller  thit  argyfied  to  bate  the  very  ould  divil 
himsilf — an'  Oi  shpose  for  the  matther  o'  that,  the  divil  was  in 
him  innyhow.' 

"  'Ah  !  then  there  was  one  giant  who  presumed  to  dis- 
cuss the  matter  with  the  good  Saint  Patrick  ?  I  suppose  the 
saint  got  angry  and  made  very  short  work  of  him — that  giant 
must  have  got  his  stomach  full  of  salt  water  or  a  hole  in  his 
liver.  He  might  better  have  swallowed  religion,  holy  water 
and  all,  Larry,'  I  said,  laughingly. 

44  4  Yez  don't  same  to  understhand  th'ould  man,  docthor,' 
replied  Larry.  'Argyfyin' was  Saint  Pathrick's  besht  hoult. 
Why,  he  cud  talk  a  lung  out  o'  th'  ould  Nick  himsilf !  Aven 
the  Pope  —  more  power  to  him  —  cudn't  hould  a  candle  to  th' 
ould  saint.  Howly  Mother!  how  ould  Saint  Pathrick  cud 
talk!  Be  jabbers,yez  haven't  got  a  lawyer  in  yer  hull  dom'd 
town  thit  cud  talk  wid  him!' 

"  '  Oh,  I  see !'  I  said.  4  He  tried  to  convert  this  obdurate 
giant  in  spite  of  himself,  by  the  weight  of  theological  argu- 
ment. Pray,  how  did  the  plan  succeed?' 

44  4  Oi  was  jist  goin'  to  tell  ye,  sorr,'  replied  Larry.  'This 
giant,  do  yez  moind,  was  a  big  red-headed  feller  be  the  name 
o'  Finn.  Now  this  Finn  was  the  biggest  dom'd  giant  in  the 
hull  gang  o'  thim.  An'  he  wasn't  inny  ould  one-harse  giant 
ayther,  Oi'll  tell  ye  that,  sorr — he  come  from  a  rale  ould  royal 
Oirish  faml'y  thit  be  the  same  token,  do  bes  called  Finnegan 
now-a-days.  An'  Oi  want  yez  to  understhand  thit  thim  same 
Finnegans  is  afther  havin'  bluer  an'  thicker  blood  thin  ould 
Brian  Boru,  the  gre't  Oirish  King  himsilf  sorr  !' 

44 '  Whin  Saint  Pathrick  caught  this  feller  Finn,  he  saw 
thit  th'  ould  red-headed  haythen  divil  wasn't  sheared  a  little 
bit,  an'  the  saint  siz  to  himsilf,  "Be  the  powers!  Oi'll  thry  a 
little  arbytrashun  wid  this  big  haythen."  Ye  see,  sorr,  St. 
Pathrick  wasn't  shtuck  on  the  dom'd  English,  but  he  was  on 


154  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

to  the'r  arbytrashun  bizness  jist  the  same,  an'  he  thried  it  on 
this  feller  Finn.' 

'  "Finn,"  sez  he,  kind  o'  moild  loike,  "I've  been  thinkin' 
for  some  toime,  thit  yez  ought  to  be  in  the  church.  Now, 
ye're  a  foine,  big1,  handsome  feller,  an'  ye'd  be  a  ornymint  to 
the  church  if  yez  would  only  let  me  convert  ye." 

'  "  The  divil  ye  soy ! "  siz  Finn,  kind  o'  shmart  loike,  "  an' 
pfwat  the  h 1  do  Oi  want  wid  yer  dom'd  religion?" 

" '  Ye  see,  sorr,  this  feller  Finn  was  a  haythen,  an'  he 
swore  loike  the  very  divil  sorr.  But  the  howly  Saint 
Pathrick  didn't  moind  that,  an'  he  jist  thrun  the  sass  roight 
back  at  him.' 

'"Ye  think  ye're  dom'd  shmart,"  siz  the  howly  man, 
kind  o'  shmoilin'  loike,  "but  ye'd  betther  be  thinkin'  it  over,"1 
an'  wid  that,  the  saint  sets  down  on  a  bit  of  a  sthone,  an* 
begins  playin'  on  a  harp  thit  he  was  afther  havin'  wid  him. 
Afther  a  whoile  the  good  ould  man  shtops  his  playin'  an'  siz,. 
"Have  yez  got  yer  moind  made  up  yit,  Misther  Finn?" 

'  "  To  the  divil  wid  yer  ould  religion,  St.  Pathrick  !  "  siz 
Finn.  "Yez  play  a  dom'd  fine  chime  but  ye  can't  worruk  on 
my  feelin's  wid  inny  of  yer  church  music.  Yer  harp  is 
swrater  thin  yer  voice,  but  ye  can't  fool  yer  uncle  Finn." 

"  'Sayin'  which,  Finn  turns  his  nose  up  at  th'  good  ould 
saint  jist  the  same  as  if  he  shmelt  bad,  sorr — the  red-headed* 
ignerant,  ould  haythen  divil!' 

"'But  St.  Pathrick  was  too  dom'd  shmart  to  be  sur- 
rind'rin'  to  inny  haythen  barbarian  loike  Finn,  an'  so  he  siz 
to  him  siz  he — "Ye  dom'd  ould  Boolgarian  ye!  pfwat's  the 
matther  wid  yez  innyhow?  Pfwat's  the  matther  wid  religion, 
Oi'd  loike  to  know — don't  yez  think  O'im  on  to  me  job? 
P'raps  yez  think  ye  don't  nade  no  religion,  but,  begorra,  ye'll 
foind  out  whin  ye  dies!  Tare  an'  ouns,  Finn!  but  it's  gre't 
foirewoorks  ye'll  be  afther  makin'  wid  that  foine  ould  red 
nob  o'  yers!  Begorra,  if  yez  don't  understhand  religion — 
an'  be  the  powers,  Oi  don't  b'lave  ye  do! — say  so,  y'  ould  divil, 
an'  Oi'll  put  yez  on!" 

"'Wid  these  worruds,  St.  Pathrick  thrun  his  own  nose 
up  into  the  air  till  he  was  shmellin'  the  back  of  his  nick— 
goin'  the  giant  jist  wan  betther,  d'yez  moind !' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  155 

'"Oh  ho!  me  laddie  bu'k!"  sez  Finn,  beginnin'  t'  git 
riled  up  a  bit,  "ye're  afther  gittin'  on  yer  ear,  air  yez?  Well, 
Misther  Saint  Pathrick  or  Misther  the  divil  is  all  the  same 
to  Finn!  If  yez  don't  loike  me  shtoyle,  begorra  ye  kin  git 
aboord  yer  ould  mudshcow  an'  go  home  to  yer  ould  woman, 
before  Oi  makes  a  charmin'  widdy  off' n  her.  Be  the  powers! 
it  was  not  mesilf  thit  sint  yez  an  invitashun  to  visit  this 
oyland,  an'  if  yez  don't  loike  me  shtoyle  ye  know  pfwat  ye 
kin  do!" 

"  '  Wid  that,  Finn  shnaps  his  fingers  at  the  howly  saint, 
the  same  as  to  say,  "Go  to  the  divil,  y'  ould  spalpeen! " — which, 
be  the  same  token,  was  pfwat  he  mint,  sorr.' 

"  'Well,  sorr,  Saint  Pathrick  wasn't  afraid  o'  th'  ould  divil 
himsilf,  an'  he  had  a  timper  loike  a  cross  ould  woman,  but  he 
siz  to  himsilf  siz  he,  "  Now  see  here,  Pathrick  me  bye,  it's  no 
use  proddin'  holes  in  this  big"  haythen  divil  the  same  as  ye 
have  the  rist  o'  thim  giants.  This  feller'll  make  a  pillar  of 
the  church  as  sthrong  as  ould  Samson  himsilf.  Oi'll  jist  kape 
me  timper  an'  con  him  a  bit." 

"'Wid  this,  the  wise  ould  duffer  luked  at  Finn  kind  o' 
shmoilin'  loike  an'  siz,  "Now  luk  here,  Finn;  it's  a  complimint 
Oi'm  afther  payin'  yez  pfwen  Oi  axes  ye  into  the  church. 
Ye'rea  broth  of  a  bye,  an'  Oi'm  bound  to  convert  ye  before 
Oi  lave  this  oyland,  or  begorra  Oi'll  go  into  the  joonk  bizness, 
that's  pfwat  Oi'll  do,  an'  quit  preachin'  to  haythens  alto- 
gither!" 

"  '  Well,  ye  see,  docthor,  the  dom'd  ould  fool,  Finn,  was  a 
little  shtuck  on  himsilf  wid  the  taffy  th'  ould  man  was  givin' 
him,  an'  so,  drawin'  himsilf  up  till  he  bumped  his  nose  on  a 
gre't  big  cloud,  pfwat  he  didn't  obsarve  troo  lukin'  at  Saint 
Pathrick,  he  siz,  siz  he  : 

'  "  Pfwat  the  divil's  the  use  in  talkin'  to  me,  about  yer 
dom'd  conversion?  Oi'd  take  some  shtock  in  yer  ould 
religion  if  Oi  cud  understhand  some  of  yer  monkey  business 
— thit  yez  can't  ixshplain  yersilf,  y'  ould  spalpeen!" 

'"Ah!"  siz  St.  Pathrick,  bristlin'  up  loike,  "An'  if  Oi'll 
ixshplain  the  thing  to  yez,  thin  will  yez  be  converted?" 

'"Sure,  an'  Oi  will  that,"  siz  Finn,  "an' as  soon  as  ye 
loike." 


156 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


'"All  roig-ht,  me 
bye,"  siz  the  howly 
saint,  "  foire  away  wid 
yer  quistions. " 

"'Sure,  an'Oi'llnot 
ask  yez  very  minny, 


"WAN,    TWO,    THREE — KIN    YEZ   COUNT   AT   ALL   AT   ALL?" 

sorr,"  siz  Finn,  "there's  jist  wan  little  fake  thit  ye  have, 
thit  Oi'd  loike  to  understhand.     Oi've  heard  ould  shtiffs  loike 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  157 

yez,talk  religion  befoor.  They  do  bes  afther  talkin'  about 
somethin'  pfwat  they  calls  'The  Howly  Trinity,'  an'  they're 
afther  makin'  three  people  into  wan.  Now,  y'  ould  sucker,  if 
ye'll  show  me  how  yez  make  three  people  out  o'  wan,  or  wan 
into  three,  Oi'll  belave  yez,  an'  beg-orra  Oi'll  be  converted  the 
day,  dom'dif  Oi  don't!" 

'  "  Well,  go  ahid  with  yer  catechism,"  siz  Saint  Pathrick, 
kind  o'  chucklin'  to  himsilf  loike.  "  If  yez  think  ye  kin  shtick 
th'  ould  man  ye're  a  daisy!" 

4  "  Ye  dom'd  ould  fool!"  siz  Finn,  "pfwat  are  yez  trying 
to  do,  play  harse  wid  me?  Answer  the  quistion  Oi'm  jist 
afther  axin  ye !  How  the  divil  do  yez  make  three  out  o'  wan  ?  " 

'  "Faith,  an'  Oi  was  jist  g-uyin'  ye,"  siz  Saint  Pathrick. 
"  That's  an'  aisy  wan.  Here  yez  have  it,  Finn,  "an'  shtoopin' 
down,  the  shmart  ould  divil  picked  up  a  bit  av  a  lafe,  an'  siz, 
siz  he,  "Luk  at  this,  ye  dom'd  ould  haythen  ye,  here's  a 
shamrock  lafe — it's  only  one  lafe,  an'  it  takes  three  lafes  to 
make  it  up!  Wan,  two,  three — kin  yez  count  at  all  at  all,  ye 
ould  red-headed  divil  ye?  An'  now  do  yez  understhand  The 
Trinity,  ye  blunderin'  g-ossoon?" 

"  'Well,  ye  see,  sorr,  Saint  Pathrick  had  Finn  up  a 
shtump,  an'  the  big-  blackg-uard  knowed  it. 

'  "  Howly  shmoke!  "  siz  Finn,  "pfwy  the  divil  didn't  yez 
put  me  on  to  that  befoor?  Av  coorse  Oi'll  be  converted !  Jist 
name  yer  toime,  an'  Oi'll  take  a  resairved  sate  at  the  cere- 
mony," siz  he.  "Be  g-orra,  Saint  Pathrick,  yez  ought  to  be 
a  joodg-e  on  the  binch — only  ye're  too  dom'd  shmart!" 

'  "  Well,"  siz  Saint  Pathrick,  "seein'as  how  yez  have  paid 
the  proice  to  the  show,  Oi'll  jist  convert  ye  at  wance.  Shtay 
roight  where  y'  air,  an'  Oi'll  git  the  howly  wather  an'  bap- 
toise  ye!" 

"'Wid  this,  the  howly  Saint  shticks  his  proddin'  oiron 
into  the  ground'  an'  goes  away  afther  the  wather. 

"'Well,  sorr,  Saint  Pathrick  was  gone  for  about  an 
hour — the  howly  wather  was  down  at  th'  ould  man's  yacht, 
an'  it  tuk  a  long-  toime  to  git  it  an'  fix  it  ready  for  to  baptoise 
the  giant.  Do  yez  moind  docthor,  thit  giants  do  be  afther 
takin'  a  hull  tub  full  o'  wather  to  baptoise  thim,  an'  Saint 
Pathrick  wanted  to  make  a  g-ood  job  av  it,  sorr. 


158 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


'"Now,  unbeknownst  to  himsilf,  Saint  Pathrick  had 
druv  the  proddin'  iron  av  his  big-  shtick,  troo  Misther  Finn's 
fut — thit  was  as  big-  as  a  bay  windy,  an'  covered  half  th' 
oyland.  The  shtick  wint  clane  troo  the  fut  into  the  groun', 
an'  nailed  Finn  to  the  airth,  an'  divil  a  move  could  he  move, 
sorr. 


"GIANTS   DO    BE    AFTHER    TAKIN'    A    HULL    TUB    FULL    O'    WATHER 
TO    BAPTOISE   THIM.  " 

"  '  Whin  Saint  Pathrick  g-ot  back  wid  his  tub  o'  howly 
wather,  he  siz:  "Come  here  now,  Mister  Finn,  an'  Oi'll  bap- 
toise  the  very  divil  out  o'  yez ! " 

'"Come  here  yersilf,"  sez  Finn,  "Oi'm  not  sthrollin' 
around  much  these  days!" 

"  'An'  thin  the  howly  man  walked  up  to  Finn,  an'  rolled 
up  his  shleeves,  an'  g-ot  riddy  to  souse  th'  ould  giant. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  159 

"  'All  at  wance,  lukin  down,  Saint  Pathrick  siz:  "Howly 
Moses,  Finn!  pfwat's  that  on  yer  fut?" 

'  "Sure,  an'  its  blood,"  siz  Finn,  "air  yezbloindor  drunk? 
Yez  sthuck  yer  dom'd  ould  stick  into  me  fut,  an'  nailed  me 
to  the  oyland.  Was  yez  afraid  Oi'd  fly  away,  y'  ould  fool,  or 
was  yez  afraid  the  oyland  would  be  afther  floatin'  off?" 

1 "  Howly  Virgin!"  cried  the  howly  man,  "pfwy  the  divil 
didn't  yez  pull  it  out,  ye  poor  ould  fool  ye  ?" 

'  "Pull  it  out!"  siz  Finn,"  pull  it  out!  An'  for  why  wud 
Oi  pull  it  out  ?  Beg-orra,  Oi  thoug-ht  'twas  part  av  the 
cer — e — mo — ny ! " 

"  'Now,  Saint  Pathrick  was  a  tinder-hearted  man,  sorr. 
Some  min  wud  ha'  said,thit  'twas  a  dom'd  foine  joke  on  Mis- 
ther  Finn,  but  the  howly  saint  didn't  luk  at  it  that  way.  He 
luked  Finn  in  the  oye  for  a  minute — lavin'  the  sthick  in  the 
fut  all  the  whoile,  d'  ye  moind? — an'  thin  he  sphilt  ivery 
dom'd  bit  o'  the  howly  wather  all  over  the  shamrock  bed! 

'  "  Finn,"  siz  he,  kind  o'  shnivellin'  loike,  "howly  wather 
aint  g-ood  enoug-h  for  the  loikes  o'  yersilf  !  A  man  pfwat  kin 
shthand  the  loikes  o'  that,  for  the  sake  of  his  religion,  don't 
nade  no  baptoisin!  Oi've  baptoised  the  shamrock  instid, 
an'  be  the  same  token,  that  swate  little  lafe  shall  be  th'  imblim 
av  yer  faith  foriver!" 

"  '  Wid  that,  Saint  Pathrick  pulled  out  the  shtick  an' 
blessed  the  hole  in  Finn's  fut  an'  haled  it  roig-ht  up. 

"  'An'  Saint  Pathrick  made  an'  assishtant  converter  out 
o'  Finn,  an'  he  was  a  power  in  the  church.  An'  if  yez  look 
the  matther  up,  sorr,  ye'll  foind  minny  o'  thim  same  Finne- 
g-ans  pfwat  descinded  frum  ould  Misther  Finn,  in  the  church 
at  the  prisint  toime — which  shows  thit  Oi'm  afther  tellin'  yez 
no  lie,  sorr.' 

"  'Ah  !  Larry  my  boy,  Finn  should  have  been  canonized !' 
I  exclaimed. 

"  ' Sure  an'  pfwat's  that,  sorr?'  he  asked. 

"  '  Why,  he  should  have  been  made  a  saint.' 

"  'Oh,  that's  pfwat  yez  mane!'  said  Larry. 

"  '  Well,  sorr,  Saint  Pathrick  did  put  in  a  g-ood  worrud  for 
him,  an'  Finn  was  promised  the  foorst  place  thit,wras  vacant. 
But  Saint  Pathrick  died  soon  afther  that,  an',  as  Finn  didn't 


160 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


have  inny  other  pull,  an'  there  was  only  a  few  Oirishmin  on 
the  board  to  vote  for  him,  the  poor  divil  got  lift,  an'  had  to 
worruk  himsilf  to  death  airnin'  a  livin'  at  day  labor  all  the  rist 
of  his  loife.  'Twas  him  as  builded  the  big1  bridge  they  do  be 
afther  callin'  the  Giant's  Causeway,  sorr.' 

"'Well,  Larry,'  I  said,  'the  Finnegans  of  to-day  are 
certainly  getting  even — the  more  power  to  'em.' 

"And  poor  Larry  is  still  wondering  what  I  meant." 


"Come,  my  dear  young  friend;  the  hookah  is  out,  and  the 
ashes  on  your  havana  have  long  since  passed  the  bedtime 
mark ! 

"  Good  night  sir,  and  peaceful  slumbers  to  you." 


HOW  A  VERSATILE  YOUNG  DOCTOR  REPORTED 
A  SOCIETY  EVENT. 


SIT  at  night  in  dreamful 

case- 
in pensive  meditation, 
With  naught  to  harass 

or  displease 
Or  give  me  agitation. 
The   fragrant  wreaths 

that  curling  up, 
Make    visions   fair  as 

fleeting, 
O  comrades  of  the  pipe 

and  cup, 
Doth  send  thee  hearty 

greeting, 


IN   THE   NAME   OF   THE  STATE   OF   INDIANA. 


HOW  A  VERSATILE  YOUNG  DOCTOR  REPORTED 
A  SOCIETY  EVENT, 


HAD  put  in  a  weary  day 
of  it — and  all  because  of 
my  huddling-  scientific 
enthusiasm. 

Small-pox  had  ap- 
peared in  Chicago,  and 
the  resultant  scare  had 
assumed  quite  formida- 
ble proportions — there 
were  probably  two 
hundred  cases  of  the 
disease  in  the  "pest- 
house  "  and  scattered 
throughout  the  city,  be- 
sides, in  all  probability,  a  certain  number  of  concealed  cases 
in  which  the  disease,  for  one  reason  or  another,  had  not  been 
reported  to  the  health  department. 

The  health  commissioners  had  organized  a  large  corps 
of  vaccinators,  whose  duty  it  was  to  go  from  house  to  house, 
and,  by  hook  or  crook,  wheedle  the  occupants  into  submis- 
sion to  vaccination.  As  there  was  a  small  salary  connected 
with  the  position  of  vaccinator,  it  was  quite  attractive  to  med- 
ical students,  for  whom  there  was  the  additional  attraction  of 
masquerading-  as  full-blown  doctors  for  the  time  being1. 

Being-  susceptible  to  the  blandishments  mentioned,  as 
well  as  possessed  of  luxuriant  professional  and  scientific 
ardor,  I  had  joined  the  vaccinating-  army — hence  my  fatig-ue 
on  the  day  in  question. 

The  doctor,  noticing-  my  condition,  commented  upon  it, 
and,  on  learning-  the  cause,  rattled  away  in  a  rather  desultory 


166  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

fashion  on  the  general  question  of  municipal,  public  and 
individual  sanitation,  in  what  seemed  to  me  an  instructive  as 
well  as  interesting  manner. 


"Universal  vaccination  is  an  excellent  thing,  even  though 
it  be  tardily  practiced.  It  is  rather  amusing  to  note  the 
dilatoriness  of  the  authorities,  however.  Small-pox  is  one 
of  the  least  excusable  of  diseases— vaccination,  properly 
practiced,  is  an  almost  certain  preventive,  and  can  always  be 
relied  upon  to  act  as  a  life-saver  by  rendering  the  disease — 
if  contracted  despite  vaccination — comparatively  mild,  yet 
we  do  not  wake  up  until  the  contagion  is  in  our  very  midst; 
then  we  fairly  tumble  over  each  other  in  our  frantic  haste 
to  vaccinate  or  be  vaccinated. 

"There  are  those  who  claim  that  vaccination  is  ineffect- 
ual and  even  reprehensible,  but  such  persons  have  never 
taken  the  trouble  to  look  into  the  statistics.  Let  one  of  these 
skeptics  examine  the  records— say  of  the  New  York  small- 
pox hospital — and  note  the  relative  proportion  of  cases  of  the 
disease  among  the  vaccinated  and  the  unvaccinated,  and  also 
the  relative  mortality  rate  of  the  two  classes,  and  he  will 
think  more  and  say  a  great  deal  less — in  antagonism  to  vac- 
cination, at  least. 

"Such  cranks  are  dangerous!  Shall  we  undo  the  work 
of  the  immortal  Jenner?  Why,  vaccination  has  done  more 
for  the  human  race  than  have  the  combined  energies  of  all 
the  anti-vaccination  cranks  that  ever  lived — it  has  saved  lives 
without  number,  dollars  beyond  computation ! 

"  Whenever  a  bad  result  occurs  from  vaccination,  how- 
ever, it  is  immediately  charged  up  to  the  system,  and  not  to 
its  method  of  application.  Impotent  or  impure  virus  is 
plentiful — shall  its  failures  or  resulting  accidents  be  attrib- 
uted to  vaccination  per  se  ? 

"I  remember,  for  example,  a  large  number  of  vaccina- 
tions performed  some  years  ago  upon  immigrants  in  the  City 
of  New  York.  Hundreds  and  hundreds  of  subjects  were 
vaccinated  by  rule  of  thumb,  but  not  one  vaccination  in  ten 
was  successful !  And  why?  Because  the  dishonesty  of  pub- 
lic officials  drew  not  the  line  at  endangering  human  life! 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  167 

"The  points  were  a  'job-lot,'  that  had  probably  never 
been  within  five  miles  of  a  heifer.  Was  Jenner's  theory  at 
fault  here?  Is  the  public  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  officials 
of  the  health  departments  and  charitable  institutions  in  some 
of  our  great  cities,  have  been  known  to  trade  upon  human 
suffering-  and  jeopardize  human  lives  by  deliberate  swindling 
in  the  quantity  and  quality  of  drug's  and  medical  sup- 
plies? 

"Yea,  yea  — even  so! 

"Horrible!  is  it  not?     Oh,  I  could  a  tale  unfold! 

"Another  point  regarding-  the  vaccination  question:  Just 
let  a  scrofulous,  syphilitic,  debilitated  or  scandalously  dirty 
voung--one  develop  some  morbid  condition  of  the  vaccination 
sore,  due  to  vile  blood  or  some  secondary  infection,  and  the 
trouble  is  immediately  laid  at  the  door  of  the  doctor  and  his 
horrible  virus.  Vaccination  sometimes  betrays  family 
secrets  in  hig-h  places — the  ranks  of  the  anti-vaccinationists 
are  full  of  such  victims  of  their  own  blood  taints. 

"There  are  some  features  of  small-pox  and  cholera  scares 
that  amuse  me  greatly.  Typhoid  fever  kills  more  people 
every  year,  rig-ht  here  in  the  city  of  Chicago,  than  ever  died 
during-  a  cholera  epidemic  in  any  city  in  this  country.  It  has 
destroyed  many  more  lives  in  this  city  during-  the  past  year 
than  small-pox  has  during-  the  past  twenty  years,  yet  we  do 
not  observe  any  particular  ag-itation  about  it.  Typhoid  fever 
is  a  moderately  preventable  disease,  yet  even  in  the  face  of 
its  immense  mortality  rate,  the  municipality  by  no  means 
excites  itself  over  means  of  prevention.  As  for  the  dear 
public — why,  it  is  hard  to  g-et  people  to  boil  their  drinking- 
water  or  even  keep  themselves  clean ! 

"Small-pox!  Cholera!  Humph! — Measles  and  scarlet 
fever  double-discount  them  in  averag-e  frequency  and  mor- 
tality, yet  there's  no  particular  excitement  about  these  latter 
diseases ! 

"  Regarding-  contagious  diseases,  I  wonder  how  long  it 
will  be  before  the  authorities  take  steps  to  prevent  the 
infection  of  the  living  by  the  dead.  There  should  be  a  public 
crematory,  at  which  the  bodies  of  all  persons  dying  of  con- 
tagious affections  might  be  destroyed.  This  should  be  com- 


168  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

pulsory — the  health  department  officially  taking-  charge  of 
every  case  as  soon  as  death  occurs. 

"Inhumation  is  illogical,  expensive,  and  disgusting  in  all 
cases.  Aside  from  the  opportunity  of  vulgar  display,  land- 
scape gardening,  mortuary  sculpture,  and  beer  and  pretzels, 
'when  the  hearse  comes  back,'  there  is  nothing  to  commend  it. 

"Let  us  cremate  the  bodies  of  persons  dead  of  infectious 
diseases,  at  any  rate,  and  if  we  must  cater  to  sentimentality, 
let  us  adopt  the  mausoleum  method  and  emulate  the  ancient 
Egyptians — it  can  be  done. 

"What  was  it  Charles  Dickens  wrote  of  the  pump  at  the 
corner  of  St.  Paul's?  Oh,  I  remember!  He  said  that  the 
old  pump  'squeaked  and  moaned  as  though  the  dead  buried 
there, objected  to  being  pumped  up  and  used  over  again.' 

"If  every  dead  man  could  suffer  the  fate  of  Roger 
Williams  and  be  taken  up  by  the  roots  of  an  apple  tree,  that 
his  descendants  might  eat  him  fresh  from  the  boughs,  or  in  the 
less  romantic  but  none  the  less  succulent  pie,  I  would  not 
quarrel  with  inhumation,  or  at  least,  might  see  some  utility 
in  it,  if  nothing  more. 

"  Young  man,  a  cemetery  is  a  blot  on  the  face  of  nature, 
and  a  slur  on  the  intelligence  of  humanity — away  with  it! 

"Speaking  of  public  sanitation,  I  would  be  glad  to  know 
the  relative  mortality  rate  of  alcoholic  indulgence  and  epi- 
demics of  contagious  diseases.  I  fancy  a  comparison  would 
be  interesting.  Germs  have  slain  their  thousands — King 
Alcohol,  his  tens  of  thousands. 

"Fellow-citizens,  statesmen,  honest  politicians — have 
you  ever  tried  to  put  down  the  liquor  habit?  The  liquor — 
yea,  the  habit — nay !  You  have  surrounded  the  enemy,  yet 
verily  you  are  his! 

"The  punch?  Why,  my  boy,  I  told  you  it  was  mild — 
besides,  it's  an  occasional  recreation,  not  a  habit.  I  must 
again  remind  you  that  doctors  are  the  guide-posts  on  the 
road  of  life ;  they  point  out  the  way  most  steadfastly,  but 
some  of  them —  well,  they  don't  travel  much  themselves. 

"  It  would  really  be  too  bad  if  the  profession  did  not  have 
a  little  liberty — fortunately  its  monotony  can  be  varied  if  one 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  169 

be  broad-gauge  and  not  built  like  a  jack-rabbit, —which,  as  the 
old  darky  said,  is  a  'sorter  narrer  gauge  mule." 


"  Yes,  my  boy,"  said  the  doctor,  leaning-  back  in  his  com- 
fortable easy  chair,  and  gazing  reflectively  into  the  filmy 
wreaths  of  smoke  that  arose  from  his  faithful  companion — 
the  oriental  hookah,  "a  doctor's  life  is  a  good  deal  of  a  grind, 
but,  after  all,  it  is  not  all  treadmill — there  are  lights  and 
shades  of  both  humor  and  sentiment,  that  not  only  relieve  its 
monotony  but  serve  as  pleasant  reminiscences. 

"Will  I  tell  you  some  more  of  my  experiences?  Well — 
I  hardly  feel  that  I  am  always  capable  of  interesting  you.  We 
old  doctors  are  a  bit  stuffy  in  our  upper  stories,  and  you,  who 
are  yet  a  student,  might  not  appreciate  some  of  my  pet 
yarns,  and  I  really  couldn't  stand  that,  you  know.  However, 
you  are  a  versatile  sort  of  fellow,  and  possibly  may  be  able 
to  adapt 'your  bump  of  appreciation  to  my  crude  attempts  at 
story  telling." 

The  doctor  tapped  the  bell  at  his  elbow  as  he  spoke,  and 
having  ordered  a  glass  of  eloquence  for  himself  and — well, 
an  anaesthetic  for  me,  settled  down  in  his  chair,  and,  with  a 
suspicious  twinkle  in  his  eye,  began  unreeling  himself: 

"You  see,  my  young  friend,  there  are  several  ways  of 
telling  a  story.  There's  Chauncey  Depew,  for  instance. 
Why,  that  man  has  achieved  world-wide  fame  as  a  raconteur, 
yet  I  venture  to  say  that  he  never  told  an  original  yarn  in  his 
life.  He  is  a  walking,  living,  eloquent  phonograph — with  a 
parrot  attachment.  Why,  he  actually  had  the  cheek  to  tell 
some  big-wig  or  other  over  in  Europe,  a  lot  of  old  chestnuts 
from  Joe  Miller,  as  samples  of  American  humor.  He  even 
went  so  far  as  to  tell  him  that  over-done  yarn  about  the  rail- 
road conductor  down  in  Indiana,  who,  at  a  certain  point  in 
the  road,  calls  out,  '  Kokomo  !  Thirty  minutes  for  divorce!' 

"But  Chauncey  is  our  idol  nevertheless,  and  I  cannot 
hope  to  rival  him,  tho'  my  stories  are  mostly  fresh — some  of 
them  more  so — and  many  of  them  so  new  that  the  price  tags 
have  not  yet  been  removed. 

"Speaking  of  versatility,  my  boy,  I  believe  that  the  doc- 
tor, above  all  men,  should  possess  it  in  plenty.  Verily  I  say 


170 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


unto  you;  get  versatility,  but  remember  that  ignorance  is 
bliss  when  thy  professional  rivals  promulg-ate  their  opinions 
of  you.  Versatility  is  a  veritable  goddess  of  comfort,  to  the 
weary  scholar  and  the  plodding  practitioner.  The  versatile 

man  is  never   at    a 
loss    for    recreation 
nor  is  he  often  non- 
plussed in  an  emer- 
gency. And  yet,  ver- 
satility may  get  one 
into    trouble 
— it  has  even 
been   known 
to    be    at- 
tended by 
fatal  re- 
sults. 


A   BRIGHT   FUTURE. 


"Apropos  of  this  theme, I'll  tell  you  the  story  of  the  sad 
fate  of  one  of  my  friends,  whom  we  will  call  Doctor  Smith — 
because  that  was  not  his  name.  I  will  not  say  more  in  des- 
cription, lest  I  make  the  same  fan  x  pas  as  did  the  old  country 
clergyman,  who  called  out  in  the  midst  of  his  sermon:  'If 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  171 

that  red-headed  girl  in  the  gallery  doesn't  keep  still,  I'll  point 
her  out  to  the  congregation ! ' 

"  Smith  was  one  of  the  most  promising  young  men  I  have 
ever  met — I  have  several  of  his  promissory  notes  in  my  safe 
now.  He  began  life  under  very  favorable  auspices.  It  was 
often  said  of  him:  "He  has  a  bright  future.'  As  time  went 
on,  however,  he  found  that  his  future  was  like  that  of  a  cer- 
tain editor  \vho  lay  dying,  after  some  years  of  futile  endeavor 
to  live  on  the  pumpkins  and  cordwood  that  he  received  in 
lieu  of  cash  subscriptions.  'Cheer  up,  my  dear  friend,'  said 
his  kind  clergyman  to  him;  'you  have  a  bright  future.'  'Yes, 
I  know,'  replied  the  dying  man,  'that's  just  what  troubles 
me — I  can  see  it  blazing  now!' 

"Practice  came  slowly  to  our  young  friend,  and  fees 
wrere  not  as  thick  as  flies  and  cobwebs  in  his  office.  One 
evening  as  he  sat,  Micawber-like,  waiting  for  something  to 
turn  up  besides  the  noses  of  his  fellow  citizens,  he  was  startled 
by  the  sudden  entrance  of  a  gentleman  friend,  who  in  his 
lucid  intervals  officiated  as  the  sporting  reporter  of  a  daily 
paper,  his  moments  of  inebriety  being  devoted  to  society 
news. 

"  'Say,  Doc,'  he  cried,  'I  have  a  very  sick  patient  for  you 
a  little  outside  of  town,  and  I  want  you  to  come  at  once,  as  we 
must  take  the  train  in  twenty  minutes!' 

"Promptness  was  young  Smith's  specialty,  and  it  is 
needless  to  say  that  they  were  soon  aboard  the  train. 

"The  doctor  made  little  inquiry  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
case,  for  like  all  young  practitioners  he  was  capable  of 
tackling  anything.  You  see,  young  man,  it  is  the  young  doc- 
tor, not  the  'green  Christmas,'  that  'makes  a  fat  graveyard.' 
Oh,  well ! — don't  be  annoyed,  I  was  a  youngster  once  my- 
self. 

"  You  know,  my  boy,  there  are  none  so  confident  as  those 
who  have  had  few  opportunities  to  make  mistakes.  All  young 
doctors  are  supplied  with  an  abundance  of  self-assurance — 
this  is  as  it  should  be,  and  is  a  conservative  effort  of  nature 
to  compensate  the  young  practitioner  for  his  superabundance 
of  hair  and  deficiency  of  whiskers.  Young  Smith  had  more 
than  the  average  amount  of  self-assurance,  and  whenever  he 


172  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

was  called  to  attend  a  new  case  he  was  prepared  for  all  pos- 
sible emergencies — his  satchel  was  supplied  with  all  the 
implements  necessary  in  the  performance  of  any  operation 
ever  heard  of. 

"  Fortunately  for  the  average  young  doctor,  he  is  rarely 
subjected  to  the  criticism  of  an  expert  tribunal — the  public 
is  not  a  competent  critic,  though  it  may  assume  to  be,  and 
the  recent  graduate  is  safe  in  assuming  the  same  position  as 
did  a  certain  darky  down  in  Virginia: 

"The  southern  negro  is  passionately  fond  of  hanging 
about  court  rooms  and  picking  up  legal  phrases — the  big 
words  and  squabbling  of  the  lawyers  are  meat  and  drink  to 
him,  unless  he  happens  to  be  on  trial  himself,  in  which  event 
he  is  a  badly  frightened  individual  indeed,  and  can  see  no 
features  of  attraction  about  matters  of  law. 

"A  police  court  or  the  'hustings'  court  of  a  southern 
city  during  a  criminal  trial,  are  especially  fascinating  to  the 
colored  population,  and  during  the  progress  of  such  cases  a 
stranger  would  conclude  that  the  negroes  have  no  particular 
occupation — the  colored  population  fairly  over-run  the  court 
room. 

"An  old  darky  was  arrested  on  some  trifling  charge,  and 
brought  before  a  police  judge  in  a  certain  Virginia  town. 
The  officers  who  had  arrested  the  old  fellow,  finished  their 
testimony  and  the  judge  said — 

"  '  Well,  my  colored  friend,  have  you  counsel?' 

"'Has  I  got  whut,  sah?'  asked  the  negro  in  some  be- 
wilderment. 

"  '  Why,  have  you  a  lawyer?' 

"  '  No  sah,  I  ain'  got  no  lawyer,  sah.' 

"  '  Well,  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  yourself?' 

"'I  ain'  got  nuffin  'tall  ter  say,  sah — jes'  nuffin  'tall, 
'cep'n'  ter  jes'  thow  masef  on  de  ignunce  o'  de  cote,  sah.' 

"The  judge  was  an  old-timer,  and  appreciating  the  fact 
that  the  clemency  and  ignorance  of  some  courts  were  quite 
liable  to  be  confused  even  by  an  intelligent  white  man,  to  say 
nothing  of  a  poor,  unlettered  negro,  promptly  discharged  the 
prisoner. 

"  But  to  return  to  our  young  friend : 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  173 

"  The  first  thing  our  doctor  noticed  on  entering-  the 
car, was  that  it  was  filled  with  a  motley  crowd  of  men  who 
seemed  to  be  out  for  a  lark — possessing  all  the  careless  aban- 
don of  a  Sunday  school  picnic.  At  the  doctor's  suggestion 
another  car  was  tried,  with  a  similar  result.  It  soon  trans- 
pired that  the  entire  train  was  made  up  of  smokers — not  a 
woman  was  in  sight.  The  passengers  appeared  to  be  well 
prepared  for  emergencies,  and  whisky  flowed  like  the  lan- 
guage in,  a  college  announcement.  The  result  was  a  degree 
of  hilarity  that  would  have  put  a  menagerie  to  the  blush. 
The  doctor  had  never  heard  such  a  racket  since  those  hal- 
cyon days  when  he  and  his  fellow  students  used  to  break  up 
the  furniture  and  'pass  'em  up'  between  lectures.  There 
were  upon  an  average,  about  six  free-for-all  fights  to  the 
minute ! 

"Being  of  a  sensitive,  modest,  retiring  disposition,  our 
young  friend  was  a  bit  flustrated  by  the  dizzy  whirl  into 
which  he  had  been  thrown,  but  the  sporting  reporter  reas- 
sured him  by  explaining  that  the  majority  of  the  passengers 
were  'respectable  gentlemen  from  the  Board  of  Trade — good 
fellows,  you  know,  but  a  trifle  gay. ' 

"This  apology  worked  well  until  a  well-known  politician 
and  gambler — since  deceased,  through  the  kindly  offices  of 
one  'Bad  Jimmy'  and  his  little  pistol — mounted  a  car  seat 
and  proceeded  to  make  a  '  book  '  on  a  prize  fight. 

"Our  medical  innocent  now  smelled  a  rodent  as  large  as 
an  elephant,  and  inquired  into  the  wherefore  of  the  which. 
The  reportorial  rascal  then  confessed  that  the  picnickers 
were  on  their  way  to  Indiana,  to  settle  a  point  of  pugilistic 
honor  between  one  'Billy  Fitzgibbons'  and  one  'Clinky  Mul- 
rooney.'  He  further  said  that  'being  compelled  (!)  to  take  in 
the  affair  as  the  representative  of  the  Chicago  Daily  Buzzer, 
and  being  subject  to  fits  of  heart  disease,  he  desired  to  have 
his  doctor  with  him.'  Knowing  the  doctor's  prejudices 
against  sporting  affairs,  he  had  'taken  the  liberty,'  etc.,  etc. 

"  'Well,'  said  the  doctor,  with  a  composure  and  resigna- 
tion that  were  somewhat  suspicious;  'I  suppose  I  must 
submit.  There  appears  to  be  at  the  present  moment,  no 
favorable  opportunity  of  escaping  from  the  somewhat  uncon- 


174 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


genial  environment  which  now  surrounds  me,  and  I  presume 
that  it  will  be  incumbent  upon  me  to  remain,  and  accompany 
your  somewhat  hilarious  companions  to  that  portion  of  the 
great  commonwealth  of  Indiana  selected  for  the  impending- 
display  of  physical  prowess.  As  a  boy,  I  was  passionately 
fond  of  descriptions  of  the  ancient  Greek  g-ames.  Those 
contests  in  which  Greek  indeed  met  Greek,  and  in  which 
they  caused  severe  contusions  upon  each  other's  anatomy 


"IS   THE    CESTUS    EVER   USED    NOWADAYS?" 

with  the  mig-hty  cestus,  were  of  especial  interest  to  me.  Tell 
me,  is  the  cestus  ever  used  nowadays?' 

"The  reporter  fell  over  two  seats,  but  finally  revived 
enoug-h  to  say,  'Naw,  they  don't  use  the  cestus  nowadays, 
but-if-you-spring--any-more-of-that-hig-h-falutin-ling>o-on- 
this-crowd,  you're  likely  to  get  smitten  on  your  jaw  with  a 
modern  mitt  loaded  with  lead !  See?' 

"  The  doctor  said  he  thought  he  comprehended,  but  I 
fancy  that  '  Chimmie  Fadden  '  would  have  grasped  the  situa- 
tion a  trifle  better. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  175 

"  The  train  finally  drew  up  at  a  cattle-yard,  just  outside 
the  sleepy  little  village  of  Jayville,  and  the  crowd  tip-toed 
through  the  mud  and  slush  for  about — well,  the  doctor 
claimed  an  hour  later  that  he  had  waded  fifteen  miles.  It 
was  nearly  midnig-ht  when  that  disreputable  mob  arrived  at 
an  old  barn,  which  had  been  selected  for  the  little  affair  of 
'honor.'  The  necessary  financial  negotiations  having-  been 
made,  the  doctor  and  his  evil  spirit  found  themselves  within 
the  modern  amphitheatre  where  deeds  of  might  and  blood 
were  so  soon  to  be  performed. 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  say  something-  about  '  the  startled 
bats,'  the  'lowing  kine,'  and  'crowing  chanticleer'  at  this 
point,  but  I  forbear — candour  compels  me  to  state  that  there 
were  no  domestic  animals  within  hearing.  With  an  eye  to  the 
fitness  of  things,  the  management  had  selected  a  barn  that 
had  most  recently  done  service  as  a  brewery  on  a  small  scale. 

"Our  friends  finally  climbed  on  top  of  a  suspicious  look- 
ing barrel — a  reserved  seat, by  the  way — faced  the  'squared 
circle  '  and  awaited  the  coming  of  the  aspirants  for  laurels 
—and  dollars.  Description  is  always  fatiguing  to  me,  so  I 
will  simply  say  that  the  over-trained,  underfed,  and  micro- 
cephalic  gentlemen,  finally  faced  each  other  and  began  the 
tedious  game  of  tag  that  is  called  pugilism — 'Whose  science  it 
is  to  teach,  the  art  of  keeping  quite  out  of  reach.'  Being 
renowned  experts,  their  success  in  keeping  out  of  harm's 
way  was  phenomenal.  But  the  lamb-like  game  was  not  to  go 
on  without  interruption  : 

"Just  as  the  crowd  had  begun  to  wonder  if  either  of  the 
contestants  would  ever  appreciate  that  he  was  not  alone 
within  the  squared  circle,  and  what  was  more  important, 
demonstrate  a  desire  to  give  them  the  worth  of  their  admission 
fee,  there  was  a  great  commotion  at  the  door  leading  in  to  the 
alleged  gladiatorial  amphitheatre,  with  a  still  greater  com- 
motion upon  the  stairway  leading  up  to  it. 

"  '  Stan'  back  thar ! — in  ther  name  of  ther  State  of  Injiany !' 
cried  a  stentorian  voice. 

"Being  possessed  of  a  due  and  proper  appreciation  of 
the  potency  of  the  aforesaid  state,  the  awe-stricken  crowd 
obediently  fell  back,  and  gave  entrance  to  a  gentleman  who 


176  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

vociferously  announced  himself  as  '  ther  sheriff  of  this  'ere 
county ! ' 

"Such  a  looking-  individual  probably  never  upheld  the 
dignity  of  any  commonwealth !  My  powers  of  portrayal  of 
the  grotesque  are  incapable  of  doing1  that  wonderful  apparition 
full  justice.  He  was  a  tall,  lank,  lean,  sharp-visaged,  long- 
haired Hoosier.  The  most  conspicuous  portion  of  his 
raiment  was  a  pair  of  heavy  cow-hide  boots,  into  which  his. 
pants  were  tucked  in  uniformly  hideous  folds.  His  hat  had 
evidently  been  surreptitiously  filched  from  some  convenient 
scare-crow  on  the  way  to  the  scene  of  the  pugilistic  encounter. 
Upon  his  manly  breast,  which  was  covered  only  by  a  hickory 
shirt,  cold  as  the  weather  was,  he  wore  the  badge  of  his  office 
— a  star  of  as  much  greater  magnitude  than  that  of  the 
Chicago  policeman  as  is  Jupiter  compared  with  the  earth.  I 
do  not  know  the  material  of  which  the  star  was  composed, 
but  it  certainly  must  have  been  made  of  American  tin— tariff 
off — because  nothing-  else  could  have  stood  the  incidental 
financial  pressure,  unless  the  wearer  was  a  millionaire  or  the 
county  extremely  g-enerous.  In  one  hand  he  held  a  large 
yellow  '  billy ' — evidently  a  piece  of  solder  covered  with 
chamois  leather — that  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  a  ripe, 
golden  ear  of  corn !  In  the  other  hand  he  flourished  a  six- 
shooter  which  must  have  seen  service  in  the  early  Indian 
wars,  and  before  which  the  crowd  instinctively  shrank  in 
dread  of  its  'git  thar  '  spontaneously,  possibilities! 

"Stepping  onto  the  platform  upon  which  the  pugilistic 
heroes  were  pirouetting,  our  majestic  dispenser  of  the  law 
said,  in  a  voice  like  a  fog-horn,  'In  ther  name  of  ther  common- 
wealth of  Injiany,  I  order  this  'ere  prize  fightin'  ter  quit!' 

"In  view  of  the  facts  in  evidence  up  to  the  time  our  gal- 
lant sheriff  broke  into  the  arena,  there  was  no  particular 
difficulty  in  convincing  the  gentleman  that  no  fighting  was 
going  on  within  his  jurisdiction.  A  roll  of  bills  mysteriously 
changed  hands,  and  the  chief  supporting  pillar  of  the  dignity, 
grandeur,  and  law  of  the  sta«te  of  Indiana  disappeared. 
Within  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  however,  he  returned,  and  in  a 
condition  which  plainly  demonstrated  that  he  had  made  ex- 
cellent use  both  of  his  time,  and  the  'arguments'  that  had 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  177 

been  advanced  to  induce  him  to  keep  out  of  the  hall.  He 
went  throug-h  the  same  performance  as  before,  with  a  similar 
result — another  roll  of  bills  changing  hands. 

"The  alleged  battle  proceeded,  but  in  about  twenty 
minutes  the  audience  was  again  electrified  by  the  entrance 
of  the  distinguished  representative  of  the  commonwealth  of 
Indiana.  He  was  '  loaded  '  this  time  sure  enough,  and  the 
way  the  crowd  got  away  from  his  somewhat  erratic  gun,  and 
dodged  the  wild  flourishes  of  that  queer-looking  yellow  club, 
was  a  caution!  Mounting  the  platform  again — although  how 
he  did  it  was  a  mystery — he  wobbled  to  its  center  and  said  : 
'Shentiemen,  in  ther  name  of  ther— hie! — commonwealth  of 
Injiany — hie! — I  order  this  'ere  prize  fightin'  ter  quit!' 

"  This  was  the  last  straw  of  aggravation  that  broke  the 
back  of  the  pugilistic  camel.  A  big  'shoulder-hitter  '  grabbed 
the  State  of  Indiana,  dignity,  pistol,  billy  and  all,  and  with  a 
'Catch  him, boys!'  threw  him  clear  over  the  ropes!  'Pass 
him  along!'  cried  somebody  in  the  crowd,  and  he  was  passed 
along — the  gun  flying  one  way,  the  club  another,  and  the  State 
of  Indiana  whirling  in  four  directions  at  once.  Bumpety- 
bumpety-bump!  down  the  Stairs  he  went,  and  it  was  not 
until  he  was  heard  to  strike  'ker-chunk!'  at  the  bottom, 
that  the  crowd  felt  satisfied — as  evidenced  by  the  universal 
sigh  of  relief  and  contentment  that  pervaded  the  assemblage. 

"Just  at  this  juncture,  our  reportorial  friend — who  had 
meanwhile  acquired  a  comfortable  degree  of  imbecility, 
through  the  medium  of  a  bottle  that  he  had  on  his  person  and 
sundry  drinks  he  had  borrowed  from  the  gentlemen  standing 
by — turned  to  Doctor  Smith  and  said,  'Scuze  me,  Doc,  but 
would  zyou  mine  'portin' — hie! — zer  resh  of  zis  fight,  while  I 
go  an'  shee  about  m'  fren'  zhat  fell  downz  shtairz?' 

"The  doctor  protested,  said  he  was  'inexperienced,  too 
modest,'  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  but  he  was  finally  com- 
pelled to  accept  the  reportorial  assignment  tendered  him,  to 
avoid  becoming  decided!}*  conspicuous  through  the  turbulence 
of  his  newspaper  friend.  On  asking  for  instructions  as  to 
the  proper  method  of  reporting  prize  fights,  the  reporter  said 
to  him,  'Put  her  in  y'own  perfesh'nal  language,  Doc — hie! 
Put  in  all  zer — hie! — shientific  points.' 


178 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"Having-  thus  made  the  subject  as  muddled  as  possible 
for  our  doctor  friend,  the  reporter  disappeared,  and  did  not 
turn  up  again  until  the  following-  morning- — at  the  termination 
of  the  alleg-ed  combat. 

"On    inquiry,   the 
s   doctor  found   that  the 
reporter  had  followed 


UPHOLDING   THK   DIGNITY   OF   THE    COMMONWEALTH. 

the  dignity  of  the  State  of  Indiana  back  into  the  village, 
where  he  succeeded  in  making1  that  g-entleman's  acquaintance. 
This  being-  accomplished,  he  suggested  a  game  of  draw  poker, 
and,  drunk  as  he  was,  fleeced  the  guileless  sheriff  out  of  what 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  179 

money  he  had  left  from  the  'arguments'  advanced  to  him  by 
the  sports  in  charge  of  the  festive  scene  he  had  so  precipi- 
tately left.  Having-  reduced  the  State  of  Indiana  to  penury 
and  want,  our  reportorial  scamp  generously  purchased  a  keg 
of  beer,  and  planted  the  sheriff  and  a  few  of  his  boon  com- 
panions at  a  safe  distance  beside  the  railroad  track,  to  discuss 
the  amber  fluid,  and  incidentally,  confer  upon  the  best  ways 
and  means  of  upholding  the  somewhat  ruffled  dignity  of  the 
1  busted '  commonwealth. 

"It  would  be  unfair  to  my  lamented  friend  Smith,  to  omit 
his  classical  description  of  that  prize  fight,  and  the  story 
would  certainly  lose  its  point,  did  I  not  repeat  the  translation 
of  his  notes  as  they  appeared  in  The  Chicago  Daily  Buzzer 
the  next  evening.  Having  been  instructed  to  give  an  accurate 
and  scientific  report  of  the  fight,  round  by  round,  our  amateur 
reporter  made  use  of  his  professional  knowledge  and  applied 
the  term  'scientific'  as  seemed  most  logical  and  convenient 
to  himself.  The  result  was  as  follows.  His  power  of  lucid 
description  and  chastely  beautiful  style  are  at  once  evident: 

'"THE  ATHLETES  OF  ANCIENT  GREECE  OUTDONE! 

"  'An  Aesthetic  and  Beautiful  Exhibition  of  Modern 
Gladiatorial  Prowess!  The  Glory  and  Grandeur  of  Physical 
Man,  upheld  bv  Modern  Personifications  of  Manly  Grace 
and  Beauty ! — 

"  '  Mr  William  Fitzgibbons  of  Chicago,  practically  anni- 
hilates and  unquestionably  routs  the  Honorable  Clinky  Mul- 
rooney  of  St.  Louis,  in  forty-seven  somewhat  hemorrhagic 
but  strikingly  elegant  Delsartian  periods — known  in  the 
language  of  the  vulgar  as  "  rounds  !"- 

"  '(N.  B. — The  ring  being  square  and  the  management 
crooked,  I  cannot  understand,  from  my  medical  studies  at 
least,  wrhy  these  intermittent,  regularly  periodic  attacks  with 
intervals  of  rest  should  be  called  "  rounds.") 

"'It  is  necessary  to  state  that  the  terpsichorean  gyra- 
tions of  the  gentlemen  designated  as  "rounds,"  consumed  a 
space  of  time  of  approximately  three  minutes'  duration,  while 
the  intervals  of  quietude  and  repose  would  probably  represent 
about  two-thirds  the  same  amount  of  time. 


180  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'I  believe  I  am  justified  in  stating-  that  the  swellest 
event  of  the  season  in  the  fashionable  circles  of  Indiana 
society— I  presume  that  in  accordance  with  the  vernacular  of 
the  day,  I  should  not  say  "society  circles,"  but  "society 
ring's" — took  place  at  Jayville  this  evening-. 

"  'The  Honorable  William  Fitzg-ibbons  and  the  Honorable 
Clinky  Mulrooney,  of  Chicag-o  and  St.  Louis  respectively,  the 
champion  heavy-weig-hts  of  the  g-ladiatorial  disciples  of 
Terpsichore,  strove  for  physical  supremacy  for  forty-seven 
consecutive  periods  of  pugilistic  time,  the  sum  total  of  which 
represented  two  hours  and  forty  minutes  of  the  most 
unwearying-  attention  to  the  minutest  details  of  the  various 
methods  of  escaping-  the  slightest  contact  with  each  other, 
which  could  be  designated  by  even  the  most  aesthetic  and 
sensitive  individual  as  being-  in  the  slig-htest  degree  rude. 

"  '  Mr.  Fitzg-ibbons,  it  pains  me  to  say,  suffered  a  severe 
laceration  of  the  rig-ht  auricular  appendag-e,  which  resulted 
in  the  almost  complete  destruction  of  that  hig-hly  ornamental 
and  more  or  less  useful  org-an.  He  also  received,  by  some 
unfortunate  accident,  certain  contusions  in  the  vicinity  of  his 
orbits,  that  resulted  in  more  or  less  ecchymosis  and  oedema, 
with  a  consequent  narrowing-  of  the  palpebral  fissures  which 
seriously  interfered  for  the  moment  with  his  visual  perception. 

" '  Mr.  Mulrooney  received,  I  regret  to  say,  a  compound 
comminuted  fracture  of  the  left  side  of  his  inferior  maxilla, 
and,  throug-h  the  indiscretion  of  surreptitiously  introducing- 
his  left  thumb  into  the  oral  cavity  of  his  associate  in  the 
g-ladiatorial  contest,  without  considering-  the  masticatory 
capacity  of  the  latter,  he  lost  that  somewhat  useful  dig-it. 

"  'It  would  be  too  much  of  a  trial  of  the  patience  of  the 
readers  of  this  excellent  paper,  to  even  attempt  a  minute 
description  of  this  most  beautiful  and  aesthetic  exhibition  of 
terpsichorean  and  g-ladiatorial  proclivities,  period  by  period, 
during-  the  progress  of  the  strug-g-le.  My  report,  how- 
ever, embraces  as  fully  as  is  necessary,  all  the  essential 
features  of  this  interesting-  event.  I  will  state,  however,  that 
the  hero  of  the  occasion  seemed  for  some  reason,  unknown  to 
me,  to  be  Mr.  Mulrooney,  who,  it  was  claimed,  won  the 
contest  on  what  a  g-entleman  whom  they  called  the  "referee" 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  181 

designated  a  "fowl,"  although  why  it  should  be  so  termed  I 
do  not  know,  as  there  was  nothing  suggestive  of  any  form  of 
feathered  creature,  so  far  as  I  could  observe,  throughout  the 
entire  ceremony.  On  reflection,  however,  I  do  recall  the  fact 
that  during  one  of  his  particularly  graceful  gyrations,  in 
which  he  fairly  flew  at  his  colleague,  one  of  Mr.  Fitzgibbons's 
friends  exclaimed,  "Oh!  ain't  Fitzy  a  bird?" — What  justified 
this  somewhat  remarkable  observation  I  cannot  say.  It  was 
certainly  ungrammatical,  to  say  the  least,  and  displayed  a 
pitiful  ignorance  of  both  ornithology  and  anthropology. 

"  'It  is  necessary  to  state  that  Mr.  Mulrooney,  at  the 
time  the  decision  was  rendered,  was  in  a  comatose  condition, 
approximating  those  states  of  suspension  of  cerebral  activity 
so  frequently  seen  as  a  result  of  commotio  cerebri,  produced 
by  violent  traumatism  of  the  cranium. 

"  'I  beg  leave  to  state  in  conclusion,  that  a  considerable 
interchange  of  currency  and  collateral  of  various  kinds 
occurred  at  the  close  of  the  exhibition.  It  is  stated  that  Mr. 
Fitzgibbons's  friends  have  not  all  returned  home  yet,  because 
of  the  disagreeable  state  of  the  highways  between  Chicago 
and  Indiana.  This,  however,  I  am  not  prepared  to  verify  by 
actual  observation.' '  

"Doctor  Smith  had  just  concluded  his  obituary  of  the 
late  Mr.  Mulrooney,  when  his  good  little  devil  the  reporter 
returned — in  a  somewhat  steadier  condition  than  when  he  left 
his  job  in  the  doctor's  hands.  He  took  the  report,  wobbled 
his  eye  over  it,  guessed  it  'would — hie!  do,'  and  then  made  a 
bee-line  for  the  telegraph  office  to  send  in  his  'stuff.' 

"Well,  the  doctor  got  home  all  right,  and  as  he  reflected 
on  the  events  of  the  previous  night,  his  chest  probably  swelled 
with  pride  at  the  thought  that  he  had  at  last  written  a  con- 
tribution which  would  be  accepted  for  publication — his 
literary  ambition  was  at  last  to  be  gratified!  We  can  only 
imagine  with  what  frantic  haste  he  must  have  bought  and 
opened  the  paper  for  which  his  report  had  been  written — 
The  Daily  Buzzer." 

"Late  that  evening,  one  of  Doctor  Smith's  friends  called 
at  his  office,  and,  finding  the  door  of  the  consultation  room 


182  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

open,  entered.  As  he  did  so,  he  stumbled  over  the  body  of  a 
man!  Hastily  striking-  a  light,  he  found  to  his  consternation 
that  it  was  poor  Smith! 

"There  he  lay,  stone  dead,  his  eyes  wide  open,  staring 
with  unspeakable,  terrified  despair  at  a  newspaper  that  was 
clenched  tig-htly  in  his  hand!  His  horror-stricken  friend 
freed  the  paper  from  the  stiffened  fing-ers  and  glanced 
throug-h  it,  but,  not  being-  a  Sherlock  Holmes,  he  saw  nothing 
to  explain  the  doctor's  sudden  death.  You,  who  have  followed 
the  story,  would  have  better  understood  the  situation,  for 
there  upon  the  first  pag-e,  wyas  the  following-  translation,  by 
the  sporting  editor,  of  the  unfortunate  doctor's  gladiatorial 
report: 


"  '  Bruising  Battle  at  Jayville,  Indiana  !  Mulrooney  noiv 
the  Cock  of  the  Walk!  Forty-seven  bloody  rounds  ! 

(Special  to  The  Chicago  Daily  Buzzer.) 

"  'The  long  expected  mill  between  Billy  Fitzgibbons  and 
Clinky  Mulrooney,  for  the  heavy-weight  championship,  was 
pulled  off  in  this  razzle-dazzle  town  last  night.  The  dispute 
was  settled  in  forty-seven  rounds — in  two  hours  and  forty 
minutes.  It  was  a  very  swell  affair.  The  swell  points  were 
good  and  plenty.  Fitzy  lost  his  right  ear  and  had  both  eyes 
smashed  shut.  Clinky  had  his  left  thumb  chewed  off  and  his 
jaw  busted.  The  scrap  was  won  by  Clinky  on  a  foul,  in  the 
forty-seventh  round.  By  rounds  the  fight  was  as  follows : 

"  '  First  round:  Clinky  landed  on  Fitzy 's  jaw ;  got  a  hot 
one  on  the  paunch  in  return! — Fitzy  finally  tapped  Clinky 's 
tank ! — First  blood  for  Fitzy ! 

"'Second  round:  Both  men  pumping  wind;  Clinky  a 
little  the  freshest! — Fitz.y  led  for  Clinky 's  bread-basket  and 
was  cross-countered  on  the  short  ribs! — Clinky  got  a  hot  one 
on  his  right  listener  in  return! 

'"Third  round:  Clinky  led  a  straight  left  for  Fitzy 's 
right  lamp,  but  fell  short  and  landed  on  his  hash  foundry ! — 
Fitzy  a  little  groggy,  but  still  in  the  ring! — Great  excitement 
among  the  Fitzy  push  ! 

"'Fourth  round:  Clinky 's  right  found  Fitzy's  left 
peeper,  and  landed  beautifully,  closing  the  optic ! — Fitzy  got 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


183 


Clinky 's  thumb  in  his  mouth  and  chewed  it  off! — Foul  claimed 
but  not  allowed!     (N.  B. — Everything-  gx>es  in  Indiana!) 

"  '  Fifth  round:     Both  men  sparring-  for  wind. — Audience 
shouting-,  "Plav  ball!" 


N 


COUNTING   THE    TIES    WITH 
THE    "FITZY    PUSH." 

"'From  this  round 
to  the  forty-seventh, 
little  fig-hting-  was  done 
— to  the  disg-ust  of  the 
talent.  In  the  last  round 
the  men  clinched  and 
fell,  with  Clinkyon  top! 

— Fitzy  had  ten  ribs  broken  but  was  dead  g"ame,  and  as  soon 

as  he  g-ot  loose,  kicked  Clinky  in  the  jaw  and  broke  it! — A 

foul  was  claimed  for  Clinky  and  allowed. 

"'The  bruised  and  battered  hero  received  the  plaudits 

of    the    larg-e    and    fashionable    g-athering-,    with    becoming- 


184  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

modesty.  (He  was  insensible  by  the  way.)  Quite  a  jag"  of 
the  "long-  green,"  changed  hands  on  the  result. 

"  '  (N.  B. — The  push  that  came  down  with  Fitzy,  is  now 
counting1  the  ties  toward  Chicago!) 

"  'Among  'the  dlite  who  were  present  were  Doc  Smith, 
Jim  O'Farrell,  Patsy  Dillon,  "Dirty  Shirt'1  Jones,  "Get- 
there  "  Eli,  Duke  Marlborough  of  England,  and  "  His  Whisk- 
ers" McWhorter,  of  the  Board  of  Trade!'" 


"  Doctor  Smith's  familiarity  with  the  vernacular  of  the 
ring,  was  about  equal  to  the  knowledge  of  natural  history 
possessed  by  a  certain  darky  down  South  : 

"Absalom,  a  faithful  old  Virginia  slave  in  the  family  of 
my  friend  Mr.  Polk  Miller,  now  of  Richmond,  accompanied 
his  master  to  the  war.  At  Yorktown,  he  saw,  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life,  soft-shell  crabs.  Much  to  his  surprise,  he 
also  saw  the  soldiers  eating  them.  The  old  man  went  to  his 
master  and  said : 

"  'Marse  Kunn'l,  whut  in  de  name  er  Gawd  is  dese  yeh 
white  folks  er  eatin'?' 

"  '  Why,  those  are  crabs,'  said  the  Colonel,  'and  they  are 
fine,  too,  haven't  you  eaten  any  of  them  yet?' 

"  'No  'ndeed  sah,  dat  I  aint!  Dey  done  looks  too  much 
like  craw-feesh  an'  spidahs  fo'  dis  chile,  an'  I  ain'  gwine  eat 
none  o'  dem  tings!' 

"  'After  he  had  been  there  a  few  days,  however,  seeing 
the  crabs  daily,  and  noticing  that  the  most  aristocratic  gentle- 
men from  his  old  neighborhood  were  eating  and  enjoying 
them,  Absalom  was  induced  to  taste  one. 

"The  old  fellow  smacked  his  lips,  saying,  'Dis  yeh  ole 
crab  is  pintedly  good ! '  and  finally  wound  up  by  eating  half  a 
dozen. 

"  Having  shown  so  much  aversion  to  the  crabs,  and  now 
being  a  convert,  Absalom  went  to  his  master,  but  in  a  shame- 
faced manner,  and  said — 

"  '  Marse  Kunn'l,  I  done  et  one  o'  dem  tings ! ' 

"  "  Well,  how  did  you  like  it  ? ' 

"  'Well  sah,  'twuz  mos'  de  bes'  ting  dat  ebbah  I  tasted!' 

"  '  I  told  you  so,  you  old  fool!' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


185 


"  4  Well,  sah,  I  didn't  hab  no  idee  dey  wuz  so  bery  good, 
ontell  I  taste  'em.  Look  yeh,  Marse  Kunn'l,  de  sojers  done 
tell  me  dat  ef  yo'  ties  er  chicken  leg-  on  er  string-  an'  drap  it 
down  inter  de  water,  dem  ole  ting's  '11  bite  at  it,  and  ef  yo' 


"HE   DONE   RETCH    ROUN'    AN'    BITE    ME   WID   EBERY    FOOT   HE    HAB  !  " 

doan'  need  me  fo'  a  hour  er  two,  I  tink  I'll  g-o  down  ter  de 
ribbah  an'  ketch  some  o'  dem  ole  fellers  fo'  suppah! 

"  'All  rig-ht,  g-o  ahead,'  replied  the  Colonel,  'but  look  out 
and  don't  let  them  bite  vou.' 


186  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  No  sah,  dey  doan  bite  dis  niggah — he!  he!     I'se  gwine 

ter  keep  ma  eye  on  he  mouf !' — and  off  to  the  river  he  went. 

"  In  a  few  minutes  the  Colonel  heard  the  old  man  crying-, 

'Oh,  lordy!  Oh,  lordy!  Lemme  g-o!  Lemme  gx>!'  and  went  out 

to  see  what  had  happened  to  him. 

"  'What  on  earth  are  you  making  all  this  noise  for,  sir?  ' 
"  '  Dis  y  eh  ole  debble  ting  done  bite  me,  sah ! ' 
"  '  Didn't  I  tell  you  to  look  out  or  they  would  bite  you,  you 
everlasting-  old  fool!' 

"  '  Yaas,  sah,  I  knows  yo'  did,  an'  I  didn'  fo'gitit,  sah,  but 
he  didn'  bite  me  wid  he  mouf!  I  jes'  drapped  de  chicken  leg- 
down  in  de  water,  an'  befo'  it  done  bin  down  dar  er  minute,  dat 
ole  ting  done  kotched  holt  of  it.  I  drawed  'im  out,  an'  he  done 
jump  off  o'  de  chicken  leg  an'  started  ter  run  back  in  de 
ribbah.  I  slap  my  foot  on  'im  an'  helt  'im  down,  an'  den  I 
'zamined  'im  close  ter  see  whar'  he  mouf  wuz,  an'  jes'  ez  soon 
ez  I  see  whar'  he  mouf  wuz,  I  retched  down  an'  picked  'im  up 
in  ma  hands.  Fust  ting  I  knowed,  fo'  Gawd,  Marse  Kunnel — 
he  done  retch  roun'  an'  bite  me  wid  ebery  foot  he  hab!' ' 


"By  the  way,  my  boy,  do  you  know  that  I  have  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  every-day  experience  of  doctors  in 
g-eneral  practice,  affords  more  comical  situations  and  more 
exhibitions  of  the  absurdities  of  human  nature  than  that  of 
any  other  class  of  men? 

"I  observed  a  very  amusing-  illustration  of  this  a  short 
time  since: 

"In  a  certain  semi-tough  district  on  the  North  Side,lives 
a  well-known  Irish  politician,  whom  we  will  call  Mike  O'Fallon 
for  short.  O'Fallon  was  once  as  honest  and  industrious  a 
young-  Irishman  as  you  would  care  to  meet,  but  politics  has 
deg-enerated  him  in  a  marked  degree.  Among  other  effects 
of  his  recent  election  to  an  important  office,  has  been  a  very 
ag-gravated  case  of  '  swelled-head,'  resulting-  in  the  acquire- 
ment of  certain  lofty  ideals  that  the  wife  of  his  previously 
honest  and  faithful  bosom  did  not  quite  fulfil.  It  was  the 
old  story,  you  know — dissatisfaction  with  the  woman  who  did 
not  grace  what  he  considered  an  exalted  station  in  life, 
whisky  in  larg-e  quantity,  and  brutal  abuse  of  the  woman  he 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  187 

had  sworn  to  cherish  and  protect.  Being1  his  family  physi- 
cian, I  naturally  became  cognizant  of  these  somewhat  delicate 
matters. 

"Just  around  the  corner  from  Mike's  residence,  lives  his 
mother-in-law — Mrs.  McFadden— whose  family  physician  I 
also  have  the  honor  to  be. 

"It  so  happened  that  the  old  lady  fell  ill  the  other  day, 
and  I  was  sent  for,  in  hot  haste.  I  found  her  suffering-  from 
an  attack  of  acute  dysentery,  prescribed  for  her,  and  was 
about  to  leave,  when  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  very 
excited  conversation  in  the  adjoining-  kitchen  that  caused  me 
to  delay  my  departure. 

"  Mike,it  seems,  had  been  at  his  old  tricks  that  morning-, 
and  had  given  Mrs.  O'Fallon  a  terrible  whipping-!  Like  all 
abused  women  she  had  fled  to  the  safe  harbor  of  her  mother's 
sheltering-  wing- — which,  poor  though  it  was,  she  never  should 
have  left — poor  girl! 

"Pat  McFadden,  the  young-  woman's  brother,  had  come 
home  full  of  bad  whisky,  found  her  at  his  mother's  house, 
made  suitable  inquiry  and  learned  of  the  latest  outrage  upon 
his  unfortunate  sister. 

"Overcome  by  brotherly  indignation  and  fired  by  the 
worst  of  Kinzie  street  'barrel  house'  liquor,  Pat  was  inspired 
by  but  one  thought — reveng-e ! 

"Bursting-  into  his  mother's  sick  chamber,  he  howled: 

"  '  Say,  mother,  that  dom'd  brute  Moike,  hez  bin  whuppin' 
Mary  agin,  an'  be  Jasus,  Oi'm  g-oin'  over  there  an'  bate  the 
loife  out  o'  the  doorty  dog!  Oi'll  sthomp  the  liver  out  av  him, 
that's  pfwat  Oi'll  do!  Oi'll  show  'im  that  he'll  not  be  afther 
lickin'  my  sister  ! — the  dom'd  Oirish  pup ! ' 

"Stopping-  just  long-  enough  to  put  on  his  coat,  wrong-- 
side out,  he  tore  out  of  the  door,  despite  the  efforts  of  the 
women  folks  to  detain  him. 

"Nowjwas  familiar  with  Mike  O'Fallon's  reputation  for 
physical  prowess,  and  while  I  had  heard  very  little  of  Pat's 
ability  as  a  fighter,  I  imagined  I  knew  just  about  what  was 
likely  to  occur — if  the  lusty,  irascible  Mike  happened  to  be 
in  when  his  brother-in-law  called  on  his  ill-advised  volunteer 
errand  of  family  regulation. 


188  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

•'As  Mike's  home  was  only  a  short  distance  away,  and  I 
was  pretty  certain  Pat  would  not  be  detained  long-,  I  made  an 
excuse  to  look  at  the  old  lady's  tongue  and  investigate  her 
aches  and  pains  again,  sat  down  beside  my  patient  with  my 
fingers  on  her  pulse,  and — waited. 

"As  I  anticipated,  I  didn't  have  to  wait  long.  A  few 
minutes  later  there  was  a  commotion  at  the  back  door,  fol- 
lowed by  a  noise  like  a  riot  in  the  kitchen,  and  in  came  a 
couple  of  wild  Irishmen,  supporting  the  Honorable  Pat  Mc- 
Fadden — or  the  remnants  thereof  ! 

"Pat's  nose  was  broken,  his  eyes  closed  and  his  lip  cut 
and  bleeding!  Upon  his  scalp  was  a  wound  that  looked 
suspiciously  boot-heel  shaped !  His  clothes  were  in  tatters, 
and  taken  all-in-all  he  was  the  worst  looking  wreck  I  ever 
saw! 

" 'Oi  say,  Pat,'  said  Mrs.  McFadden, faintly — apparently 
not  comprehending  the  pitiful  spectacle. 

" '  Yis,  mother,'  mumbled  the  self-appointed  family 
regulator. 

"  '  Did  yez  find  him,  me  bye? ' 

"  'Faith,  an'  Oi  did  that!'  said  Pat,  whose  Irish  wit  had 
evidently  returned  to  him— the  visit  to  Mike  having  sobered 
him. 

"  'Sure,  an'  was  he  at  home,  Pat?'  asked  the  old  lady. 

"  'Was  he  at  home,  mother!  Was — he — at—home!  Jist 
luk  at  me,  begorra,  an'  tell  me  whither  Moike  was  at  home  or 
was  afther  lavin'  a  cyclone  ter  kape  house  fer  him!  Well — 
Oi — shud — shmoile! ' 

"'An'  pfwat  did  ye  do  to  him,  me  bye?'  asked  the 
mother,  whose  poor  old  eyes  had  evidently  not  yet  appreciated 
the  situation. 

"  '  Be  Jasus,  mother,  Oi  played  fut  ball  wid  'im! '  " 


"  '  Mike  was  indeed  at  home! — He  had  clubbed  Pat  over 
the  head  with  a  revolver,  kicked  him  when  he  was  down, 
thrown  him  down  two  flights  of  stairs  and  rolled  him  in  the 
gutter,  in  the  quickest  time  on  record! — Pat  had  played  foot- 
ball with  Mike,  but  he  had  enacted  the  role  of  ball  to  an  un- 
comfortable extent! 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"  I  patched  Pat  up  as  well  as  I  could,  but  I  am  free  to  say 
that  he  was  by  no  means  a  prize  beauty  when  the  job  was 
done.  He  made  no  remarks,  however,  until  I  had  finished, 
when  he  stag-g-ered  up  to  a  looking-glass,  pried  his  lids  open 

with   his  fing-ers,  squint- 
ed  at   the  wreck  of   his 


"  AINT    MOIKE   A   DAISY?" 

former  self  and  said,  enthusiastically — 'Be  Jasus,  docthor! 
Aint — Moike — a — daisy  ? ' 

" Pat  was  .evidently  proud  of  his  brother-in-law!  "Pis 
thus  that  family  pride  oft  allays  the  pang's  of  ungratified 
personal  ambition. — 

"I  fear,my  boy,  that  you  may  think  me  quite  reckless  in 
my  story-telling-.  You  know  a  fellow  is  liable  to  blaze  away 


190  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

with  his  stories,  shot-g-un  fashion,  very  much  as  some  of  the 
citizens  of  my  old  California  town  used  to  mix  in  other  people's 
quarrels. 

"A  row  would  start,  usually  in  some  saloon,  and  for 
a  few  minutes  thing's  would  be  mighty  lively — even  for  a 
mining-  town.  The  g-ood  citizen  who  happened  by  that  way, 
would  hear  the  row,  stop  long-  enoug-h  to  locate  it,  g-o  home 
after  a  shot  g-un,  return  to  the  door  of  the  saloon,  fire  both 
barrels  with  their  pint  of  buckshot  into  the  crowd  within,  and 
— g-o  happily  on  about  his  business,  with  a  clear  conscience! 


"What,  you're  not  g-oing-!  Good  gracious!  you  young- 
chaps  seem  to  have  no  staying-  powers!  Oh,  a  quiz  in  the 
morning-, eh?  Anatomy,  did  you  say?  For  g-oodness' sake, 
lad,  hustle!  You'll  come  in  ag-ain  next  week  I  hope — I  want 
to  say  something-  real  serious  to  you.  Confound  this  hookah  ! 
it's  as  dead  as  a  door-nail !  Guess  I'll  g-o  to  bed  myself,  as  I'm 
out  of  tobacco. 

"  '  Good  nig-ht,  my  boy,  and  fair  visions  to  you." 


THE  RHODOMONTADE  OF  A  SOCIABLE  SKULL, 


VER  their  evening  pipe,  some 

good  people  find, 
Freedom  from  care,  content* 

ment  for  the  mind, 
Others,   with  troubled  coiv 

science  brought  to  book. 
Dream   of  devils,  foul  fiend 

or  horrid  spook, 
Whilst  I,  e'en  tho'  the  smoke 

my  spirit  lull, 
Spurn  fancies  sweet  and— 

gossip  with  a  skull, 


"AHEM!    GOOD  EVENING,  DOCTOR." 


THE  RHODOMONTADE   OF  A  SOCIABLE  SKULL 


I. 


TANDING  in  an  out-of-the- 
way  corner  of  the  doctor's 
cosy  library,   was  a  large 
glass  and  mahogany  cabinet, 
devoted   to   curios  and   specimens  of 
various  kinds. 

Many  of  these  treasures — for  the 
doctor  set  great  store  by  them — were  by  no 
means  extraordinary  per  se,  but  there  was  no 
article  in  the  entire  collection,  that  did  not 
have  an  interesting  history. 
I  will  not  undertake  to  recite  the  many  interesting  things 
the  doctor  told  me  at  various  times,  about  those  souvenirs  of 
his  experience  and  travels — time  would  not  permit  it,  even 
though  I  could  remember  all  he  said — which  is  certainly 
doubtful. 

On  one  shelf  were  a  number  of  queer-looking  snakes  and 
lizards,  shining  through  the  glass  bottles  in  which  they  were 
confined  like  a  lot  of  weird,  unsavory,  and  disgusting  pre- 
serves and  pickles.  In  one  corner  of  this  shelf  was  a  jar 
containing  a  huge,  hairy  tarantula — shrivelled,  it  is  true,  but 
still  a  very  Goliath  of  his  kind.  The  fuzzy-looking  monster 
had  been  in  pickle  thirty-five  years.  As  the  doctor  facetiously 
remarked,  the  alcohol  in  which  that  spider  was  pickled,  was 
"the  finest,  oldest,  and  primest  'tarantula  juice '  in  America! " 
In  the  center  of  the  shelf  was  a  specimen  of  a  Cyclops — an 
infantile  monstrositv  that  had  been  born  to  fame — and  death 


196 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


— and  had  escaped  all  those  trials  and  tribulations  which  well- 
formed  infants  are  pre-destined  to  undergo.  Like  his 
mythical  prototype,  the  little  monster  gazed  out  upon  the 
world  with  a  hideous  leer — his  single  fishy  orb  appearing  to 
search  for  victims,  \vith  dimly-lighted  vision  but  malevolent 
fixity  of  purpose.  But  this  miniature  Cyclops  had  already  met 


"WE   ARE    WITH   YOU    IN    SPIRIT." 

his  doom;  he  needed  not  to  await  the  coming  of  an  Odysseus. 
Yet  the  impotent  little  wretch  was  monarch  of  all  he  sur- 
veyed— in  that  cabinet.  The  very  semblance  of  humanity  in 
which  he  masqueraded,  made  him  ruler  of  the  shelf  whereon 
he  stood.  Unlike  some  potentates,  he  could  justly  claim  that 
most  of  his  subjects  were  with  him  "in  spirit." 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  197 

Upon  one  side  of  the  cabinet  was  a  "Monster  of  the 
Gila" — one  of  those  disgusting-  reptiles  of  which  so  many 
horrible  and  blood-curdling-  stories  are  told  for  the  edification 
of  the  uninitiated.  Like  many  another  demon,  this  speckled 
g-entleman  from  the  gloomy  canons  of  the  southwest  country, 
is  not  so  black  as  he  is  painted,  but,  nevertheless,  the  par- 
ticular specimen  of  the  breed  under  consideration  was  not 
fair  to  gaze  upon.  He  had  an  uncanny  look  of  everlasting- 
crawl  about  him,  that  g-ave  one  such  eerie,  creepy  feeling's  up 
and  down  one's  spine!  But  the  doctor  said  the  beast  was  "a 
perfect  beauty,"  and  I  did  not  dispute  him — our  standards 
mig-ht  have  varied. 

Intermingled  in  repulsive  profusion  with  the  articles  I 
have  described,  were  some  bottled  pathological  specimens,  a 
disorderly  array  of  geological  relics,  and  an  assortment  of 
odd-looking-  sea  shells  ;  here  and  there,  could  be  seen  the  tar- 
nished outlines  of  some  discarded  surgical  instrument. 

Above  all  this  nerve-disturbing,  emotion-stirring  col- 
lection of  curios  and  surgical  dead  lumber — no  facetiousness 
intended — was  another  shelf  on  which  stood  a  number  of 
curious  and  ghastly-looking  skulls — each  with  a  history, 
pathological  or  romantic,  or  both.  Skulls  that  told  tales  of 
mis-spent  lives,  skulls  that  betrayed  the  sins  of  parental  life 
and  taints  of  parental  blood,  skulls  that  showed — well, 
anything  but  good  points  and  symmetry  of  conformation. 
These  skulls  were  the  doctor's  special  pride,  and  it  was  posi- 
tively dangerous  to  allude  to  them — unless  one  were  prepared 
to  listen  to  a  scientific  disquisition  as  comprehensive  as  the 
Encyclopaedia  Britannica. 

It  seemed  that  the  doctor's  collection  of  crania  was  just 
one  too  many  for  the  cabinet — one  had  been  crowded  out  and 
was  holding  an  overflow  meeting  all  by  himself  on  the  very 
top  and  outside  of  that  receptacle.  I  had  frequently  observed 
this  particular  skull  as  it  stood  there,  as  it  were,  on  a  pinnacle 
of  pride,  flocking  alone  like  Dundreary's  bird,  far  above  his 
less  fortunate — and  less  dusty — fellows.  Many  a  time,  while 
sitting  in  the  doctor's  library,  I  had  studied  that  grinning, 
staring  mass  of  ossified  egotism,  and  marveled  at  its  strange 
form  and  rather  impudent  expression.  I  felt  sure  it  had  a 


198  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

history — for  which  of  the  doctor's  specimens  had  not? — and 
I  had  on  several  occasions  been  greatly  tempted  to  ask  the 
doctor  about  it.  The  opportunity  of  doing-  so  finally  came 
about  in  this  way : 

I  had  been  reading-  an  account  of  a  trial,  in  which  the  plea 
of  insanity  had  been  urg-ed  in  defense  of  a  man  who  had 
murdered,  in  cold  blood,  one  of  our  most  prominent  citizens. 
There  was  some  fanciful  pretext  of  a  grievance  suffered  by 
the  assassin  at  the  hands  of  his  victim,  which  imag-inary 
injury  he  had  most  cruelly  and  summarily  aveng-ed.  The 
most  careful  investigation,  however,  failed  to  show  any  logical 
reason  for  the  crime — any  reason  at  least,  that  could  be 
logically  accepted  by  a  person  of  sound  mind  as  an  excuse 
for  the  murder.  The  plea  of  insanity  being-  advanced, 
"experts"  were  summoned  upon  each  side,  to  testify  as  to 
the  prisoner's  sanity  at  the  time  of  the  commission  of  the 
crime. 

It  is  probable  that  the  averag-e  layman  could  not 
appreciate  the  serio-comic  display  presented  by  that  trial. 
There  were  "experts"  galore  —  scientific  experts,  hired 
experts,  political  experts,  "  job-lot  "  experts,  and  omniscient 
experts — these  latter  preponderated — and  other  thing's  too 
numerous  to  mention,  but  they  hung  the  poor  devil  of  a 
lunatic  just  the  same. 

Some  of  the  evidence  advanced  by  the  defense  showed 
that  unworthy  arguments  are  sometimes  brought  to  bear  in 
behalf  of  a  worthy  cause — an  attempt  was  made  to  prove  the 
prisoner's  insanity  by  the  irregular  and  malformed  development 
of  his  head  and  face,  and  particularly  his  jaw. 

Now,  I  am  only  a  student  of  medicine  and  almost  neces- 
sarily a  dilettante  in  such  matters,  but  to  my  mind,  this 
evidence,  or  abortive  attempt  at  evidence,  seemed  absurd.  I 
firmly  believed,  from  what  I  knew  of  the  crime  and  the  testi- 
mony brought  out  at  the  trial,  that  the  prisoner  was  insane — 
common  sense,  it  seemed  to  me,  should  have  dictated  such  a 
conclusion — but  I  must  acknowledge  that  the  peculiar  and 
conflicting  character  of  the  evidence  was  very  puzzling  to  me. 

I  am  sure  it  is  not  presumptuous  on  my  part — although 
I  do  not  pretend  to  understand  the  subject  very  thoroughly 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  199 

—to  express  the  opinion  that  some  of  the  expert  testimony 
was  a  howling"  farce.  Take,  for  example,  the  testimony 
of  one  gentleman,  who  endeavored  to  establish  the  prisoner's 
insanity  upon  what  he  called  "  stigmata  of  degeneracy" 
as  shown  in  aberrant  development  of  the  skull,  and  espe- 
cially of  the  jaw.  Why,  not  only  had  that  "expert"  never 
treated  a  case  of  insanity,  but  he  had  never  practiced  medi- 
cine a  day  in  his  life ! 

Well,  I  am  but  a  senior  student,  and  have  much  to  learn, 
yet  I  doubt  whether  I  shall  ever  acquire  much  faith  jn  the 
intuitive  "expertness  "  of  some  dabblers  in  arts  they  cannot 
understand. 

If  a  novice  might  be  permitted  to  offer  a  suggestion,  let 
us  go  back  into  scriptural  history  for  our  insanity  experts. 
Let  us  subpoena,  not  Balaam — but  his  next  friend. 

The  absurdities  of  the  testimony  in  the  trial  I  have  men- 
tioned, wrere  still  fresh  in  my  mind  when  I  called  upon  mv 
friend  Doctor  Weymouth  in  the  evening,  and  knowing  that 
he  was  interested  in  criminal  anthropology,  I  determined  to 
ask  for  some  light  upon  the  questions  involved  in  the  case 
that  had  excited  my  interest.  I  shall  always  be  glad  I 
followed  this  inclination,  for  it  resulted  in  a  most  entertaining 
and  amusing  story  from  the  doctor — who  happened  to  be  in 
excellent  humor. 


"So,  my  young  friend,  you  have  become  interested  in 
that  deplorable  case. 

"I  do  not  wonder  you  were  disgusted  and  puzzled  by 
some  of  the  expert  evidence  in  that  trial. 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  so  many  insanity  experts  existed, 
as  have  been  put  upon  the  stand  in  that  cause  ce'lebre.  Really, 
there  have  been  several  'expert'  witnesses  in  the  case  whom 
I  was  compelled  to  look  up  in  the  medical  directory,  to  ascer- 
tain where  they  were  from.  I  have  been  gratified  to  learn 
that  the  mental  health  of  this  community  is  being  cared  for 
by  so  many  scientific  specialists.  I  was  under  the  impres- 
sion that  insanity  and  nervous  diseases  were  rather  difficult 
branches  of  medicine,  but  I  see  I  was  wrong — they  must  be 
simple,  else  why  so  popular  as  specialties? 


200 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"You  are  right,  my  boy — such  testimony  is  absurd  and 
brings  true  science  into  disrepute.  The  study  of  abnormal 
humanity  as  comprehended  by  the  science  of  criminal 
anthropology,  makes  no  such  ridiculous  claims  as  would  be 
inferred  from  that  testimony.  The  modern  school  of  crimi- 
nal anthropology  has  accomplished  much,  but  it  does  not 
claim  to  have  established, 
as  yet,  any  data  that  war- 
rant our  making  the  stig- 
mata of  degeneracy  an 
important  issue  in  mur- 
der trials. 

"But    dabblers    and 
pretenders   infest   every 
art  and  science,  and  we 
must    console    ourselves 
wi'th   the    reflection  that 
such    persons  by 
no   means    repre- 
sent    scientific 
thought — they  are 
experts   in   much 
the  same  fashion 
that   a   bull    in   a 
china    shop    is    a 
judge  of  the  wares 
contained  therein. 

"  The  worst 
feature  of  such 
notoriety-  seeking 
fellows,  is  that 
they  drag  '  star- 
eyed  science'  in  the  mire  and  make  it  an  object  of  ridicule 
and  distrust.  Even  truth  suffers  when  under  suspicion.  We 
should  do  nothing  by  which  we  may  lose  the  confidence  of 
those  who  are  looking  to  us  for  light — the  buzzard  of  quack- 
ery may  foul  its  own  nest,  but  the  eagle  of  science,  never! 

"The  so-called  science  of  phrenology,  absurd  as  it  is, 
was  never  half  so  ridiculous  as  the  sham  science  that  certain 


AN  ''EXPERT"  IN  DEGENERACY. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  201 

camp  followers  in  the  field  of  criminal  anthropology  and  the 
study  of  abnormal  man,  are  endeavoring-  to  set  up. 

"Modern  science  holds,  not  that  certain  peculiarities  of 
development  necessarily  indicate  a  particular  type,  or  indeed, 
any  type,  of  insanity  or  criminality,  but  that  the  criminal  and 
the  insane  are  characterized  on  the  average,  by  aberrations  of 
cranial  development  and  certain  other  departures  from  the 
normal  average  standard,  that  we  term  stigmata  of  degener- 
acy— a  wide  distinction  and  a  still  wider  difference. 

"  To  be  sure,  there  are  extreme  types  of  atypical  cranial 
development  that  are  associated  with  certain  peculiar  mental 
attributes,  but  not  with  sufficient  frequency  to  form  a  basis 
for  dogmatic  expert  evidence. 

"In  speaking  of  this  particular  point,  I  recall  that  the 
head  of  Bichat,  the  celebrated  anatomist,  was  so  distorted 
that  it  looked  as  though  two  mis-fit  halves  of  different  skulls 
had  been  spliced  together.  The  symmetrical  head  often 
encloses  a  vicious  brain,  while  a  crooked  one  may  conceal  either 
the  mighty  intellect  of  a  philosopher  or  the  morals  of  a  saint. 

"I  do  not  deny  that  there  is  something  suggestive  in 
cranial  conformation — we  hope  there  may  yet  be  more — but 
it  is  best  to  be  very  conservative  in  our  judgment  upon  this 
point.  Lombroso  and  his  school  have  taught  us  much,  but 
let  us  not  claim  more  than  our  masters.  Science  sometimes 
has  need  to  cry,  'Save,  oh  save  me  from  my  friends!'" 


"Oh,  ho!  my  young  diplomatist — you  have  been  leading 
up  to  the  consideration  of  that  particular  skull,  have  you  ?  I 
was  wondering  why  you  were  gazing  at  it  so  curiously.  Yes, 
it  is  indeed  a  queer-looking  specimen. 

"Will  I  give  you  its  history? 

"  Well,  now,  young  man,  that  is  a  subject  on  which  I  am  a 
little  sensitive.  That  skull  has  a  history,  and  a  very  queer 
one,  but  I  have  never  told  it  to  anyone.  I  hesitate  to  tell  it, 
even  to  you,  for,  although  I  like  fun  as  well  as  most  men,  I  do 
not  like  to  run  the  risk  of  being  ridiculed. — 

"  Well,  your  persistency  is  commendable,  to  say  the  least 
I  suppose  you  will  not  be  content  unless  I  tell  you  the  story, 
so  I  may  as  well  surrender  at  once. 


202  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"I  am  going-  to  relate  something-  that  may  strike  you 
as  rather  sing-ular — the  autobiography  of  a  skull.  I,  myself, 
have  never  heard  of  another,  and  I  propose  to  give  it  to  you  as 
circumstantially  as  I  received  it — or  as  nearly  so  as  my  mem- 
ory will  permit. 

"About  ten  years  ago,  it  was  my  fortune  to  be  serving 
on  the  staff  of  one  of  our  public  hospitals.  The  patients  in 
the  institution  were  drawn  from  all  walks  in  life — the  pauper- 
ized aristocrat  and  the  pauper  who  was  to  the  manner  born, 
met  there  on  common  ground — often  to  come  together  later 
on  still  commoner  ground  in  the  Potter's  field. 

"Among  our  charges  we  very  often  had  a  number  of 
sailors — those  rollicking,  rough-and-ready,  improvident  fel- 
lows, that  form  a  class  as  distinct  from  the  rest  of  mankind 
as  does  the  soldier — the  sailor's  frater  in  the  struggle  of 
existence. 

"I  was  always  greatly  interested  in  the  sailor  boys,  the 
more  especially  as  there  were  many  among  them  who  had 
sailed  old  ocean,  long  before  they  became  fresh  water  tars. 
Such  men,  when  intelligent,  are  always  very  entertaining. 

"During  the  severe  winter  that  prevailed  in  18 our 

supply  of  sailors  was  unusually  large,  and  several  of  them 
proved  to  be  men  who  had  travelled  widely  and  gathered  much 
information  by  the  wayside.  I  spent  many  a  pleasant  half- 
hour  in  profitable  conversation  with  them. 

"By  far  the  brightest  of  these  sick,  but  still  jolly  tars, 
was  a  queer  old  Englishman  who  had  seen  long  and  hard 
service  at  sea.  He  had  served  in  Her  Majesty's  navy  and 
also  in  the  Confederate  navy  during  the  late  war.  During 
the  interim  between  his  naval  services,  he  had  been  an  'able- 
bodied  seaman'  in  the  Pacific  mail  service,  his  last  experience 
having  been  on  a  vessel  plying  between  San  Francisco  and 
Canton,  China. 

"  The  old  man  had  been  induced  to  leave  the  salt  water, 
and,  as  he  expressed  it,  had  turned  'land-lubber'  on  a  modest 
competence.  He  had  withstood  the  sharks  of  the  Pacific,  but 
the  land  sharks  were  too  much  for  him,  and,  having  lost  his 
modest  little  hoard,  he  had  entered  the  service  of  one  of  our 
lake  transportation  companies." 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  203 

"John  York,  A.  B.,  as  he  signed  himself,  became  very 
much  attached  to  me,  and  when  he  left  the  hospital  expressed 
his  gratitude  and  devotion  as  only  an  honest  sailor  can. 

"  '  Doctor,'  he  said,  'ye've  been  very  kind  to  th'  old  man, 
an'  he'll  not  forgit  ye,  sir.  If  ye  don't  mind,  I  wants  to  give 
ye  a  present.  I've  got  somethin'  what  I  brung  from  China, 
that  I've  been  carryin'  'round  a  good  many  years,  an'  I'm  goin' 
to  give  it  to  you,  coz  I  know  ye'll  appreciate  it.  Would  ye 
mindtellin'  me  where  I  can  find  ye,  sir?' 

"  Thinking-  to  humor  the  old  fellow,  and  without  the 
faintest  idea  that  I  should  ever  see  him  again,  outside  of  the 
hospital,  I  gave  him  my  residence  address. 

"A  few  evenings  later,  there  was  a  ring  at  my  door-bell, 
and  immediately  thereafter,  Bob,  my  black  servant,  came 
into  the  library,  rolling  his  eyes  until  they  looked  like 
animated  white  marbles,  and  informed  me  that  a  suspicious- 
looking  old  man  with  a  bundle  wished  to  see  me  at  the 
door. 

"  Much  to  my  surprise,  I  found  that  the  doubtful  char- 
acter was  my  old  sailor  man,  but  I  did  not  recall,  for  the 
moment,  the  promise  to  which  I  was  indebted  for  the  honor 
of  his  visit. 

"I  ushered  the  old  fellow  into  the  library,  where  he 
deposited  his  evidently  precious  bundle  upon  my  study 
table. 

"'Axin'  yer  pardon,  sir,'  said  he,  'd'ye  remember  the 
promise  I  made  ye  when  I  left  the  'orspital?' 

"  'Yes,'  I  replied,  'I  do,  now  that  you  remind  me  of  it, 
but  I  confess  it  had  slipped  my  mind — indeed,  I  had  not 
thought  of  it  since." 

"  'Well,'  he  said,  with,  I  fancied,  something  of  an  injured 
air,  'I  didn't  forgit  it,  sir,  an'  here  it  is,'  laying  his  hand  on 
the  mysterious  package  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  looked  at  the  round,  paper-wrapped  bundle,  with  some 
curiosity. 

'"What  is  it?'  I  asked. 

"  'It's  a  head,  sir,'  he  replied,  'an'  a  right  queer  one.' 

"  'A  head!'  I  exclaimed,  'what  do  you  mean — the  head  of 
a  human  being?' 


204  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  Jesso,  sir.  It's  not  a  fresh  one' — and  he  grinned  widely 
—'it's  real  old,  but  it's  worth  its  weight  in  gold,  an'  I  wouldn't 
give  it  to  nobody  else,  sir.' 

"While  he  was  speaking,  he  carefully  unwrapped  the 
bundle  and  disclosed  a  coarse  gunny  sack,  from  which  he 
extracted  the  most  remarkable-looking-  object  I  had  ever 
seen — the  mummified  head  of  a  man! 

"  The  head  was  indeed  a  curio.  It  had  been  dried  in  the 
sun  with  the  skin  and  flesh  still  upon  it.  The  cranium  was 
still  surmounted  by  a  mass  of  black,  curly  hair.  The  lips 
were  retracted,  and  tightly,  weirdly  drawn  over  a  set  of  time- 
stained  but  perfectly  formed  teeth,  making-  a  most  perfect 
sneer  of  disdain — an  expression  of  frozen  contempt  that 
was  absolutely  startling! 

"But  the  most  peculiar  and  striking-  feature  of  the  head, 
was  the  dome-like  shape  of  the  cranium.  It  towered  up  like  a 
huge  sugar  loaf,  showing  a  vertical  expanse  of  forehead  that 
sug-g-ested  the  existence  of  a  most  gig-antic  intellect  in  times 
past.  You  may  verify  the  accuracy  of  my  description  by 
inspecting  the  skull  itself. 

"  'Well,  John,'  I  said,  'you  are  very  kind,  I  am  sure,  but 
it  is  fortunate  that  you  gave  your  present  to  one  who  is  not 
nervous.  The  sight  of  that  thing  would  frighten  the  average 
man  into  an  epileptic  fit.  Where  on  earth  did  you  get  it?' 

'"I  brung  it  with  me  from  China,  sir,  an'  to  tell  the 
truth,  I  stole  it  out  o'one  o'  them  heathen  temples  over  there. 
I  took  it  jes'  for  a  lark,  an'  after  I  got  it,  I  didn't  know  what 
to  do  with  it.  I  didn't  dare  try  to  put  it  back  agin,  so  I  jes' 
kep'it.' 

'"Why  did  you  not  throw  it  overboard,  when  you  got 
aboard  your  vessel  again  ? '  I  asked. 

"  'Because,'  he  replied,  'I  afterwards  found  out  that  the 
head  was  a  wonderful  thing,  sir.' 

"  'Wonderful?'— 'In  what  way,  John?' 

"  'Why,  sir,  that  head  is  one  o'  them  talkin'  heads  that 
the  Chinese  priests  keep  for  the'r  religious  mummeries!'  he 
answered. 

"I  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  poor  old  man — he  was 
so  thoroughly  in  earnest. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


205 


"  'Now, see  here,  my  friend,'  I  said,  'it  will  never  do  to 
have  that  chap  around  here.  He'll  create  a  disturbance,  and 
perhaps  get  to  making  love  to  the  cook!' 


SOME    OK    "THEM    TALKIN'    HEADS." 

"The  old  man  took  this  bit  of  facetiousness  on  my  part, 
:n  all  seriousness. 


206  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  Oh  no,  sir!  He'll  not  trouble  ye  a  bit.  Ye  don't  need 
to  tell  nobody  else  how  to  make  him  talk,  an'  ye  needn't  have 
him  talk  to  you,  only  when  ye  wants  to!' 

"'Ah! — so  there's  a  key  necessary  to  unlock  his 
tongue,  eh?' 

"  '  Not  'zackly  a  key,  sir,  but  ye've  got  to  use  a  sort  o' 
paste  like,  that  they  make  over  in  India.  There's  where  the 
Chinese  priests  get  it  from.' 

"  '  Well,  then,'  I  said,  '  I  suppose  I  will  have  to  forego  the 
pleasure  of  a  conversation  with  our  distinguished  friend,  until 
I  can  get  over  to  India.' 

"  'Not  much,'  replied  the  old  sailor,  'I've  got  a  hull  box 
of  it  for  ye,'  and  he  handed  me  a  small,  round,  curiously 
carved  wooden  box,  covered  with  queer-looking  figures  and 
hieroglyphics. 

"  On  opening-  it,  I  found  that  it  contained  an  oily,  green- 
ish-golden substance,  of  a  pasty  consistency  and  a  pungent, 
not  unpleasant  odor,  that  quickly  filled  the  entire  apartment 
and  lingered  about  for  days  afterward. 

"  The  affair  was  really  growing  quite  interesting. — 

"  '  Do  you  happen  to  know  how  to  use  this  stuff,  John?'  I 
asked. 

"Oh  yes,  sir,  I  found  out  all  that  over  in  Canton.  When- 
ever ye  wants  the  thing  to  talk,  ye  jest  rolls  up  two  little 
pills  o'  the  paste  about  as  big  as  a  pea,  an'  ye  puts  one  of  'em 
inter  the  mouth  of  the  head,  an'— 

"  '  What  shall  I  do  with  the  other?' 

"  'Well,  as  I  was  goin'  to  say,  ye  swallers  the  other  yerself.' 

"'But  /can  talk  at  any  time,'  I  said,  'so  why  is  it 
necessary  for  me  to  take  some  of  the  stuff  also?' 

"  'I  dunno,  sir,'  he  replied,  gravely,  'but  that's  the  way 
the  priests  does  it,  an'  'twont  work  no  other  way.' 

"  '  Did  you  ever  try  to  make  the  head  talk,  John?' 

"  ' Oh  no,  sir,  I  wudn't  do  such  a  thing  for  all  the  world! 
It's  not  for  the  likes  o'  me,  to  be  foolin'  'round  with  such 
deviltry  as  that!  But  you  have  a  eddication,  sir,  an'  that's  a 
diff'rent  thing  entirely.  If  I  hadn't  met  you,  sir,  an'  ye 
hadn't  been  so  kind  to  th'  old  man,  I'd  never  ha'  given  the 
head  nor  the  secret  to  nobody  at  all.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  207 

"  'I'm  obliged  to  you  for  the  compliment,'  I  said,  'and  to 
demonstrate  my  appreciation,  I  will  keep  the  head.' 

"  'An'  the  paste,  sir?' 

"  '  Ye-yes,  and  the  paste  too.  I  will  not  promise  that  I 
I  will  ever  use  it,  but  it  may  come  in  handy.' 

"I  gave  my  sailor  friend  a  hot  toddy  and  a  havana,  and 
after  wishing-  me  all  kinds  of  good  luck,  he  bade  me  good-bye. 
I  afterward  regretted  that  I  had  not  asked  him  whose  head 
the  specimen  was  reputed  to  have  been.  It  might  have  been 
interesting  to  know  the  old  fellow's  views  of  the  matter. 

"  That,  my  boy,  is  the  way  I  came  into  possession  of  the 
relic  which  has  so  interested  you.— 

"Oh  yes,  it  is  a  skull  now,  isn't  it?  Well,  after  a  few 
months,  I  got  tired  of  that  everlasting,  petrified  grin  which 
the  thing  had — it  seemed  to  be  gazing  upon  me  with  an  expres- 
sion of  ineffable  superiority  whenever  I  looked  at  it.  I 
desired  to  keep  the  specimen,  but  I  determined  to  give  it  at 
least  an  appearance  of  respectability,  so  I  boiled  the  mummi- 
fied flesh  off  one  fine  day. 

"Did  I  ever  induce  the  head  to  talk?  Come,  come,  sir! 
Don't  hurry  me  or  I'll  begin  to  think  my  story  is  a  good  one. 
We'll  get  to  that  part  of  our  programme  directly." 


"After  the  process  of  boiling  to  which  I  subjected  it,  the 
old  sailor's  present  became  much  more  tolerable — indeed,  its 
society  grew  to  be  positively  agreeable.  I  have  a  habit  of 
communing  with  objects  of  interest  that  happen  to  be  about 
me,  and  after  my  friend,  the  head,  had  become  merely  an 
osseous  ornament  for  my  mantel — for  I  had  no  cabinet,  nor 
had  I  collected  any  other  skulls  at  that  time — I  occasionally 
manifested  a  certain  degree  of  friendliness  toward  the  relic. 

"With  those  dry,  shriveled,  sneering  lips  gone,  there  was 
no  longer  any  disdainful  quality  to  the  expression  of  the 
skull.  As  you  may  have  observed,  the  features  are  still 
wreathed  in  smiles,  but  there  is  nothing  sardonic  about  them; 
indeed,  they  rather  express  an  expansive  and  hearty  air  of 
sociability  and  benevolence  than  otherwise. 

"I  became  somewhat  kindly  disposed  toward  the  skull, 
and  used  to  talk  to  it  occasionally,  about  various  matters. 


208  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

I  have  even  told  it  secrets  of  importance,  and  I  must  say 
that  my  confidence  has  never  been  betrayed. 

"I  finally  became  quite  familiar  with  my  bony  companion 
—I  even  went  so  far  as  to  name  it — or  rather  him.  I  called 
him  'Skully,'a  highly  respectable  cognomen,  expressive  both 
of  his  rather  Hibernian  cast  of  features  and  the  preponder- 
ance of  cranial  development  that  he  possesses.  There  is  also 
a  frank,  hearty,  confidentially  familiar  quality  to  the  name, 
that  appealed  to  my  instinct  of  good-fellowship. 

"  My  friend  Skully  has  participated  in  much  of  my  scien- 
tific labor,  and  has  proven  a  wise  counsellor  on  many  occasions 
—the  best  I  ever  had  in  fact.  He  has  ever  been  given  to  calm 
and  philosophic  reflection — so  different  from  most  men,  in 
the  flesh,  who  are  creatures  of  impulse.— 

"Bewail  not  death — 'tis  thus  the  poet  sings, 
For  death,  and  death  alone,  true  wisdom  brings. 
He  who  groping  sees  dimly  here  below, 
Beyond  the  grave  alone  may  nature  know. 
The  unknown  world  is  peopled  by  the  wise, 
And  knowledge  has  its  throne  in  Paradise. 

"Ah  !  my  boy,  such  friends  are  hard  to  find! 

"One  evening,  while  pensively  smoking  my  usual  allow- 
ance of  Turkish,  a  meditative  mood  took  possession  of  me  and 
it  so  happened  that  I  fell  to  thinking  of  the  many  excellent 
qualities  of  my  friend,  the  skull. 

"  'Ah!'  I  mused,  as  the  fragrant  rings  of  delicately  blue 
smoke  curled  upward  from  my  pipe — 'there  are  few  friends 
like  Skully,  yonder.  Always  steadfast,  ever  interested,  never 
bored,  perpetually  pleasant  of  expression,  reliable  as  fate — 
how  pleasant  and  true  a  comrade  he  is,  to  be  sure.  Why,  I 
always  know  just  where  to  find  him ! — He  is  a  friend  indeed  ! 

"  'And  how  discreet  he  is!  He  has  never  betrayed  any 
of  the  numerous  confidences  I  have  reposed  in  him.  He  has 
even  suggested  ideas  to  me  and  has  never  gone  around 
bragging  about  it.  I  never  knew  of  his  saying — 

"  'Seen  that  article  of  Weymouth's  on  ossification  of  the 
third  ventricle? — Well,  /suggested  that  to  him. — Oh  yes,  I 
was  glad  to  give  him  a  lift,  you  know. — Not  at  all,  not  at  all; 
you  see  I  have  lots  of  material,  and  besides,  William  is  such  a 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  209 

promising-  fellow — I  don't  mind  giving-  such  men  a  helping- 
hand,'  etc.,  etc. 

"'Wow!  Skully,  my  boy,  you  are  more  than  human!'  I 
exclaimed.  'But,  after  all,  perhaps  if  you  could  talk — •' 

"  'By  Jove!  if!  if!' — I  sprang  to  my  feet  in  an  ecstacy  of 
sudden  and  interesting  recollection.  I  recalled  for  the  first 
time  since  the  original  head  came  into  my  possession,  the 
chimerical  story  of  my  sailor  friend.  I  had  listened  to  John 
York,  with  the  patronizing  and  tolerant  indulgence  of  the 
good-natured  skeptic  who  feels  that  superiority  to  the  super- 
natural which  a  liberal  education  alone  imparts.  I  had  laid 
the  oriental  paste  away  and  promptly  forgotten  its  mysterious 
and  wonderful  properties,  and  having  soon  thereafter  boiled 
the  head,  it  was  quite  natural  that  I  should  not  have  recalled 
the  old  sailor's  story  until  my  thoughts  happened  to  take  the 
direction  already  mentioned,  and  brought  the  circumstances 
surrounding  the  presentation  of  the  head  vividly  be- 
fore me. 

"  'Supposing  the  sailor  was  right!'  I  thought. 

"'Pshaw!  William,  my  friend,'  I  reasoned,  'you  are  a 
physician,  with  presumably  a  fair  amount  of  common  sense — 
not  a  silly  old  woman!  But  then,'  I  said  to  myself,  'what 
would  be  the  harm  in  following  the  sailor's  directions  and 
thus  indulging  the  kind-hearted  old  fellow's  fantastic  notions 
to  the  utmost!  It  was  certainly  unkind  of  me  to  have  for- 
gotten him  all  this  while,  and  it  is  possibly  my  duty  to  make 
amends.' 

"  The  notion  was  as  amusing  as  it  was  novel,  and  upon 
the  impulse  of  the  moment  I  yielded  to  it.  After  some  rum- 
maging about  in  my  desk,  I  managed  to  find  the  queer  little 
box  of  oriental  paste. 

"  With  a  smile  of  derision  at  my  own  whimsical  impulse, 
I  proceeded  to  prepare  a  couple  of  boluses  according  to  John 
York's  formula.  Being  a  regular  practitioner  and,  therefore, 
inclined  to  full  doses,  I  measured  out  a  good  quantity — I 
resolved  that  there  should  be  no  reservation  in  following 
directions. 

"  The  pellets  having  been  rolled,  I  placed  one  between 
the  jaws  of  my  friend  Skully,  saying  facetiously,  'Have  one 


210  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

with  me,  my  boy,'  and  with  a  'Here's  looking-  at  you,  sir,' 
swallowed  the  other  myself. 

"Hardly  had  I  completed  what  I  intended  as  the  indul- 
gence of  a  facetious  whim,  when  I  received  a  telephone 
message  requesting  me  to  call  on  a  patient  a  short  distance 
from  my  house.  I  responded  to  the  call,  found  myself  in  the 
midst  of  a  case  of  uraemic  convulsions,  and  did  not  return 
home  for  at  least  an  hour. 

"Meanwhile,  as  you  may  imagine,  I  had  no  thought  of 
anything  but  my  patient — such  cases  give  no  time  for  other 
matters. 

"  When  I  finally  found  myself  back  in  my  library  and 
seated  in  my  comfortable  chair,  I  had  completely  forgotten 
the  skull — paste  and  all. 

"As  I  sat  smoking,  and  pondering  over  the  case  I  had 
just  left,  I  became  conscious  of  a  delightful  sense  of  well-being 
such  as  I  had  never  before  experienced.  While  working  over 
my  latest  patient,  I  had  a  feeling  of  exaltation  which  on  any 
other  occasion  would  have  especially  attracted  my  attention, 
but  I  was  then  so  preoccupied  that  I  did  not  notice  it  par- 
ticularly. It  was  not  until  my  mind  was  free  from  the 
responsibility  of  the  case,  that  I  took  cognizance  of  my  own 
sensations,  and  even  then,  I  gave  my  tobacco  credit  for  their 
charm.  You  know,  my  boy— 

"Under  tobacco's  wonderful  spell, 

Trouble  flies  and  the  world  goes  well — 

Sweet  visions  of  hope  flit  through  the  brain 

And  all  is  joy  and  peace  again. 

Under  tobacco's  wonderful  spell, 

Happiness  comes ;  the  world  goes  well — 

The  skies  are  peopled  with  angels  fair ; 

Back  to  hell  flies  the  demon,  Care ! 

"Never  before  had  the  fumes  of  my  pipe  seemed  so 
dreamily  delicious.  The  smoke  curled  upwards  into  beauti- 
ful designs,  through  which,  as  in  a  fleecy  frame,  lovely,  angelic 
faces  appeared ;  bright  and  bewitching  eyes  seemed  to  gleam 
upon  me  from  somewhere,  away  out  in  space;  I  heard  the 
sound  of  beautiful,  aye,  heavenly  music.  I  gave  myself  over 
to  my  new  sensations  completely,  with  little  power  and  abso- 
lutely no  inclination,  to  resist  them. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  211 

"I  was  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  ecstatic,  ineffable  bliss; 
the  world  was  one  great  panorama  of  beauty,  in  which  couleur 
de  rose  predominated — neutral  tints  there  were  none.  I  had 
but  one  wish — that  so  my  soul  might  go  on  and  on  forever. 
Life  was  a  vision  of  delight — a  pleasurable  emotion  as  larg-e 
as  the  universe.  I  was  king-  of  the  realms  of  sentiment,  and 
levying  taxes  galore  on  my  faithful  subjects,  when  I  was 
brought  back  to  earth  by  the  most  discordant  noise  that 
could  possibly  have  intruded  itself  into  the  bright  and  beau- 
tiful paradise  of  my  imagination — a  human  voice! 

"  'Ahem!    Good  evening,  doctor.' 

"I  turned  abruptly  in  my  chair — for  I  confess  I  was 
startled — and  looked  expectantly  toward  the  library  door, 
supposing,  of  course,  that  the  voice  came  from  some  visitor 
who  had  entered  unannounced. 

"To  my  surprise,  I  saw  no  one! 

"After  a  moment's  reflection,  I  concluded  the  voice  was 
a  product  of  the  fantastic  though  delightful  reverie  in  which 
I  had  been  revelling.  I  turned  again  to  my  desk  and  resumed 
smoking. — 

"  'Ah!  my  dear  doctor,  you  evidently  know  what  comfort 
means!' 

"  This  time  there  could  be  no  mistake — I  had  certainly 
heard  a  voice,  and  from  the  vicinity  of  the  mantel! 

"  I  looked  in  that  direction,  and  much  to  my  amazement, 
I  found  the  speaker  to  be  —  my  friend,  the  skull! 

"There  he  stood,  smiling  like  a  jack  o'  lantern,  and 
winking  at  me  as  familiarly  as  though  friendly  and  sociable 
skulls  were  an  everyday  affair! 

"'Great  Hippocrates!'  I  exclaimed,  with  rising  hair, 
4  was  that  you  who  spoke  ? ' 

"  '  Why,  certainly  it  was  I — didn't  you  invite  me  to  speak, 
and  didn't  you  give  me  some  of  the  magic  paste?' 

"The  astonishing  truth  flashed  upon  me — my  sailor 
friend  was  right!  What  I  had  believed  to  be  an  inconsistent 
chimera  of  an  ignorant  old  man's  brain,  was  a  startling  reality! 

"  'I  must  say,  doctor,  that  you  do  not  seem  overjoyed  at 
my  interruption  of  what  was  evidently  a  pleasant  reverie  over 
your  evening  pipe.' 


212  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'Goodness  gracious!'  I  exclaimed,  'You  can't  expect 
one  to  be  dumbfounded  with  amazement,  and  cordial  at  the 
same  time!  What  do  you  mean,  anyhow,  by  scaring"  a  fellow 
half  to  death,  and  then  complaining"  that  you  are  coolly 
received?  You  might  at  least  defer  your  criticisms  until  I 
get  over  my  surprise.' 

"  '  Why,  doctor,  I  supposed  of  course  that  you — that  is, 
you  expected  me  to  talk,  did  you  not?  You  seemed  to  know 
exactly  what  you  were  about  when  you  gave  me  the  magic  pill, 
and  I  am  sure  you  must  have  taken  one  yourself,  else  I  never 
could  have  intruded  upon  you,  even  had  I  wished  to  do  so.' 

"'You  are  right,  sir,'  I  replied,  'but,  to  be  perfectly 
honest  with  you,  I  will  acknowledge  that  I  went  through  that 
performance  more  in  a  spirit  of  fun  than  because  I  expected 
anything  to  come  of  it.' 

"  'Ah!'  said  the  skull,  'that  explains  something!  I  have 
often  wondered  why  you  were  so  unsociable.  So,  you  did 
not  believe  what  old  man  York  told  you,  eh  ?  Well,  my  dear 
friend,  you  would  have  experienced  stranger  things  than 
conversation  with  skulls,  had  you  lived  a  few  hundred  years 
ago — when  /was  in  the  zenith  of  my  fame.' 

"  '  Very  likely,'  I  said,somewhat  sarcastically,  'but  please 
remember  that  this  is  the  nineteenth  century,  and  although 
we  have  many  things  nowadays  which,  I  fancy,  would  astonish 
even  you;  a  conversazione  with  a  skull  is — well,  it  is  hardly 
fin  de  siecle,  you'll  admit.  I  suppose  a  fellow  might  get  used 
to  it,  but  the  effect  upon  one's  nerves  is,  at  the  outset,  rather 
disturbing.' 

"  'Perhaps  you  are  right,  doctor,'  said  the  skull;  'I  con- 
fess I  had  not  thought  of  that,  but  one  becomes  so  familiar 
with  the  manners,  customs,  and  natural  phenomena  of  his 
own  time,  that  he  is  likely  to  forget  that  there  are — well,  as  I 
heard  one  of  your  lady  patients  say  the  other  day,  "there  are 
others."  By  the  way,  I  wish  you  would  thank  her  for  that 
valuable  addition  to  my  stock  of  terse  and  elegant  expres- 
sions. I  do  not  know  the  lady's  name,  but  she  is  the  one  with 
the  blonde  hair  and  brunette  eyebrows,  who  wears  a  big  hat 
with  gaudy  dead  birds  in  it.  You  know,  doctor,  the  one  who 
is  always  chewing  something.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  213 

"  'Ahem!  Oh  yes!  certainly,  certainly!'  I  replied,  mean- 
while wondering-  what  the  deuce  the  fellow  meant,  and  men- 
tally resolving-  not  to  leave  any  of  that  paste  around  where  my 
wife  could  g-et  hold  of  it.  I,  of  course,  knew  that  Skully  was 
talking  through  his — no,  that  couldn't  be,  could  it?  But  then, 
you  see,  I  didn't  care  to  take  any  chances,  even  though  I  felt 
sure  that  I  knew  no  one  corresponding-  to  his  description. 

"  Fortunately,  the  skull  did  not  notice  my  confusion — he 
might  have  misinterpreted  it,  you  know. 

"  'During  the  somewhat  brief  period  of  our  acquaintance,' 
continued  the  skull,  'I  have  often  thought  how  pleasant  it 
would  be  to  know  each  other  better.  Our  strictly  profes- 
sional relations  have  oftentimes  been  somewhat  irksome,  and 
I  have  frequently  wished  I  might  introduce  myself.  But 
there  were  several  reasons  why  it  was  necessary  that  you 
should  make  the  first  advances.  In  the  first  place,  I  am  rather 
reserved  than  otherwise,  and  in  the  second  place — you  had  the 
paste. 

"  'Again,  while  I  have  been  quite  democratic  since  I  left 
my  own  family  and  took  "pot  luck"  with  yours,  I  have  never 
forgotten  the  dignity  and  pride  of  my  social  station — that  is, 
the  social  station  I  once  occupied.' 

"I  think  the  skull  realized  that  I  was  somewhat  embar- 
rassed, for  he  hastened  to  add — 

"'I  did  not  mean  to  offend  you,  my  dear  sir,  by  the 
expression  "pot  luck,"  I  used  it  in  the  popular  sense  and  not 
as  a  double  entendre.  I  had  forgotten,  for  the  moment, 
the  horrible  stew  you  got  me  into  some  months  ago.  I  was 
somewhat  irritated  at  the  time,  'tis  true;  indeed,  to  be  frank 
with  you,  I  was  absolutely  boiling-  for  a  few  moments,  but 
then,  I  soon  cooled  off — the  incident  was,  after  all,  a  pleasant 
holiday  compared  with  some  things  I  have  had  to  bear  during 
the  last  few  centuries.' 

"  '  Introducing  oneself  is  always  an  embarrassing  pro- 
cedure, but  I  feel  that  in  justice  to  us  both,  it  should  be  done.' 

"  'I  assure  you,  doctor,  that  I  am  worthy  of  your  friend- 
ship— by  birth,  breeding,  and  education.  I,  alas!  cannot  say 
that  I  am  "  of  poor  but  honest  parents."  I  don't  wonder  you 
look  surprised — it  does  make  an  unusual  beginning  for  an 


214  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

autobiography,  doesn't  it?  Still,  I  must  acknowledge  with  a 
due  sense  of  modesty,  that  I,  sir,  am  of  the  bluest  of  blue 
blood — Don't  smile,  doctor,  I  know  there's  not  much  evidence 
of  blood  of  any  color  about  me  now.  Yes,  my  friend,  I  am 
descended  from  one  of  the  best  known  and  most  aristocratic 
families  of  Europe  ! ' 

"  The  skull  paused,  and  I  remarked,  drily— 

" '  Come  to  think  of  it,  sir,  I  have  often  observed  an 
aristocratic  air  about  you.  Indeed,  now  that  I  look  at 
you  more  closely,  I  fancy  I  can  trace  the  family  resem- 
blance— you  remind  me  strongly  of  some  of  the  "  bony 
parts.'"" 

"The  skull  sneered,  quite  perceptibly,  and  said,  cut- 
tingly— 

"  'Now,  see  here,  doctor,  I  may  be  a  little  dry  and  stiff, 
and  perhaps  lacking"  in  the  finer  shades  of  emotional  expres_- 
sion,  but  I  still  have  some  feeling- — the  loss  of  my  fifth  cranial 
nerve  has  by  no  means  case-hardened  me.  I  am  not  one  of 
those  "  self-made  men  "  of  whom  people  talk  so  much  nowa- 
days, or  I  wouldn't  have  any  feeling's  at  all,  but  the  fact 
remains  that  I  can't  stand  everything",  so  you  must  have 
some  regard  for  such  little  sensibility  as  may  still  be  left  me. 
And  now,  let  me  give  you  some  advice  sir — I  have  had  an 
excellent  opportunity  to  study  you  for  some  months,  and  if  I 
am  any  judge,  I  am  justified  in  the  conclusion  that  humor  is 
not  where  you  particularly  shine.' 

"  'Not  even  dry  humor  on  grave  subjects,  eh?'  I  inter- 
rupted. 

"I  fancied  there  was  a  shade  of  contempt  in  the  voice  of 
the  skull  as  he  continued,  without  commenting  on  my  inter- 
ruption— 

"  'You  are  clever  in  some  directions,  I'll  admit — oh,  don't 
blush;  I  am  not  flattering  you,  doctor,  you  do  cut  a  boil  grace- 
fully— but  the  other  kind  of  humor  is  not  the  particular  field 
in  which  you  are  likely  to  achieve  immortality. 

"'Besides,  my  dear  sir,  that  "bony  part"  business,  is 
an  old,  time-worn  chestnut  anyway.  Old  age  makes  some 
things  respectable,  but  that  ridiculous  joke  has  grown  more 
and  more  obnoxious  as  time  has  rolled  away.  It  used  to 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  215 

disgust  me  many  years  ago,  but  since  I  was — ah,  boiled,  I 
can't  endure  it.' 

"  'But  what  is  more  enduring  and  immortal  than  a  joke?' 
I  asked. 

"  '  You  are  thinking  of  Joe  Miller,  I  suppose,'  replied  my 
osseous  friend,  'but  he  was  a  humorous  phenomenon.  Like 
the  works  of  Hippocrates,  the  book  of  the  inspired  Joseph 
will  be  found  to  contain  everything  in  his  line — ancient 
and  modern.  To  be  sure,  it  may  require  careful  search  to 
discover  it,  but  even  amateur  iconoclasts  seem  to  be  success- 
ful in  finding  the  origin  of  every  new  thing  that  is  said  or 
done  nowadays. 

"'No,  doctor,  joking  is  not  your  forte — don't  ever  try 
to  be  funny  again — it  isn't  becoming.' 

"  'Well,  I  like  that ! '    I  exclaimed. 

'"Yes,  I  know,  some  people  do,  but  tastes  vary,'  replied 
my  juiceless  friend.  'Personally,  I  don't  like  joking.  If  any 
of  these  funny  fellows  ever  come  gyrating  around  here,  and 
mouthing  such  wormy  old  gags  as  that  "Behold  this  ruin — 
'tis  a  skull!"  business,  they'll  find  out  that  Pm  not  that  kind 
of  a  ruin,  else  their  faces  will  have  to  be  harder  than  mine! 

"  'I  might  remark  en  passant,"1  continued  the  skull,  that, 
aside  from  my  unexceptionable  social  position,  there  is 
another  and  stronger  reason  why  we  should  meet  upon  terms 
of  equality — I  was  a  practitioner  of  medicine  for  many  years, 
during  the  latter  part  of  my  momentous  existence.  In  fact, 
my  dear  sir,  I  was  in  active  practice  up  to  the  time  I  died.' 

"  'Why,  sir,' I  replied,  'you  both  surprise  and  please  me. 
I  cannot  express  my  gratification  at  learning  of  the  fraternal 
bond  that  exists  between  us.  I  assure  you,  doctor — 

"'Pardon  me,  sir,'  said  the  skull,  interrupting,  'but 
I  wish  you  would  not  address  me  by  that  particular 
title.  I  am  not  in  practice  at  the  present  time,  and  as  there 
are  consequently  no  business  reasons  for  desiring  the  appli- 
cation of  the  term  to  myself,  I  prefer  that  you  should  not 
do  so. ' 

"  '  And  pray,  what  shall  I  call  you  ? '  I  asked. 

"'Oh,'  replied  the  skull,  'anything  you  like,  providing 
you  don't  call  me  "doctor".  In  my  day,  the  appellation  was 


216  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

an  honorable  one,  but  in  this  degenerate  age,  it  is  so  loosely 
applied  that  it  has  neither  honor  nor  significance.  What 
with  your  drug  store  doctors,  horse  doctors,  theological  doc- 
tors, electric  tooth  doctors,  Christian  science  doctors,  patent 
medicine  doctors,  and  mountebanks,  to  say  nothing  of  musi- 
cal, spiritualistic  and  faith  doctors,  the  term  is  so  besmirched 
with  vulgarity  and  ignorance,  that  I,  as  a  self-respecting 
skull  of  a  once  genteel  physician,  positively  will  not  permit  its 
application  to  myself.' 

"  'Well,  then,  sir,'  I  said,  'if  you  will  pardon  the  familiar- 
ity, I  will  call  you  by  the  name  under  which  you  have  become 
best  known  to  me.  Sometime  ago  I  dubbed  you,  "Skully". 

"  The  skull  was  evidently  somewhat  startled,  and,  I 
fancied,  a  trifle  disconcerted. 

"'Why',  he  said,  with  some  acerbity  of  inflection,  'do  I 
look  like  an  Irishman?' 

"'Not  at  all,  not  at  all,'  I  said,  'but  you  talk  like  one. 
There  is  an  honest  ring  to  your  voice  that  pleases  me? 

"'As  far  as  the  name  Skully  is  concerned,  it  is  an  old 
and  honored  one.  With  slight  modification — merely  the 
substitution  of  the  letter  c  for  k — the  name  is  one  that  has 
acquired  great  renown.  Indeed,  the  happy  majority  of  the 
possessors  of  the  name  "Scully,"  have  occupied  positions  of 
honor  and  trust  in  this  country  for  years,  and  years.  What 
would  American  politics  do  without  the  Scullys?  Where 
would  our  police  force  be  without  them?  Why,  my  friend, 
did  you  but  properly  appreciate  it,  you  would  thank  me  for 
the  honor  I  have  paid  you.' 

"  The  skull  actually  smiled,  as  though  well  satisfied  with 
himself! 

"  'By  Jove!  are  we  all  vain? '  I  asked  myself. 

"  '  You  are  a  fluent  talker,  at  any  rate,'  I  continued,  'and 
that's  another  reason  for  suspecting  you  are  of  Celtic 
origin.' 

"  '  Yes,'  replied  Skully,  'but  there  are  varying  degrees  of 
fluency,  and  several  kinds  of  fluent  talkers.  /  am  the  kind 
that  has  control  of  several  languages — not  one  of  those 
benighted  and  miserable  creatures  whose  language  has  con- 
trol of  them.  With  this  understanding,  I  have  no  objection  to 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  217 

being-  termed  "fluent."  I  am,  however,  not  Irish — I  was 
never  within  many  miles  of  the  Blarney  Stone.' 

"  '  You  may  never  have  visited  the  Blarney  Stone,'  I  said, 
'  but  it  is  very  evident  that  you  are  a  gentleman  of  culture, 
education,  and  vast  experience — you  have  doubtless  traveled 
much  and  had  many  strange  adventures.' 

'•  'Ah!'  he  exclaimed,  somewhat  sadly,  it  seemed  to  me, 
4  You  are  right,  doctor,  I  have  indeed  had  a  momentous  career ! 
If  you  doctors  of  to-day  were  not  so  jealous  of  your  time — well, 
I  only  wish  I  might  have  the  opportunity  of  telling  you  the 
story  of  my  life.  To  be  sure,  "Time  was  made  for  slaves,"  as 
one  of  your  modern  writers  expresses  it,  but  nevertheless  I — 

"'My  dear  friend!'  I  exclaimed  eagerly,  'what  is  the 
value  of  time,  even  to  a  busy  doctor,  compared  with  the 
pleasure  of  listening  to  such  an  autobiography  as  yours 
must  be?  Why,  sir,  I  would  have  a  scoop!  a  regular — 

"  '  I  beg  your  pardon,'  interrupted  Skully,  'a  what?' 

"'Pray  excuse  me,'  I  answered,  in  some  confusion, 
*  There  are  some  words,  you  know7,  which  are  so  pregnant 
with  meaning  that  we  acquire  the  habit  of  using  them  with- 
out due  regard  for  our  audience.  The  term  "scoop  "  is  one 
I  borrowed  from  my  newspaper  friends.' 

"'Oh,  yes!'  cried  the  skull,  'I  remember  having  heard 
my  friend  Seymour,  of  the  Chronicle,  use  the  expression.  It 
has  some  reference  to  sugar,  has  it  not?' 

"  'Well,  hardly,'  I  replied — at  the  same  time  wondering 
how  he  happened  to  know  Seymour — 'unless  bearing  upon  the 
question  of  compensation,  which,  I  believe,  is  at  the  present 
day  hardly  worthy  of  sufficient  consideration  to  warrant  a 
special  appellation.  But  call  it  what  we  may,  I  should  con- 
sider myself  one  of  the  most  favored  of  mortals,  could  I  but 
listen  to  your  history.' 

"  '  Well,  doctor,'  said  Skully,  'I  am  sure  your  request  is 
not  inspired  by  mere  vulgar  curiosity,  and  I  will  do  the  best  I 
can  to  entertain  you — granting  that  you  consider  my  con- 
versation entertaining.  I  will  do  so,  however,  only  upon  one 
condition.' 

"'Name  it!'  I  cried,  determined  to  hear  the  story  on 
any  terms. 


218 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"  '  Oh,  it  is  a  condition  easily  fulfilled,'  said  my  friend,  ' I 
merely  wish  it  to  be  plainly  understood,  that  what  I  am  about 
to  say  is  most  emphatically  not  for  publication.     I  am   too 
experienced  a  doctor,  to  run  any  risk  of  my  remarks  getting 
into  the  newspapers.     I  wouldn't  have  my  name  appear  in  the 
papers  for  anything1,  and  if  any 
of  my  views  should  ever  be  pub- 
lished in  the  public  press,  I  know 
— I — should — die! — again,  I  mean, 
of  course.' 

"'Ah,  my  dear  confrere  I"1  I 
cried,  'I  would  certainly  embrace 


"THIS   IS    NOT    FOR    PUBLICATION." 

you,  were  it  physically  possible !     Why,  sir,  your  views  of 
ethics  are  actually  up  to  date!' 

"'Oh,  I  dare  say,'  he  answered,  'Ethics  used  to  be  my 
strong  point.  Why,  doctor,  I  never  consulted  with  a  homeo- 
path— for  less  than  ten  dollars — nor  bled  a  patient  less  than 
a  quart,  in  the  whole  course  of  my  practice !  I  believe  I  may 
say, in  all  modesty,  that  /was  a  model  practitioner.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  219 

"  '  You  were,  indeed,  the  beau  ideal  of  "  regularity,"  '  I 
replied,  k  but  it  is  really  too  bad  that  you  will  not  permit  me 
to  publish  your  history.  You  could  disavow  all  knowledge  of 
the  way  it  got  into  the  papers,  and  thus  protect  your  ethical 
standing-.' 

"  '  Young  man,'  said  Skully,  '  didn't  you  notice  the  "not 
for  publication"  wink,  that  I  gave  you,  when  I  began  impos- 
ing my  conditions  upon  you  ? ' 

"Ignoring  the  patronizing  reflection  upon  my  compar- 
ative youth  as  viewed  by  the  bony  old  veteran,  I  confessed 
that  the  wink  had  escaped  my  observation,  at  the  same  time 
marvelling  that  the  lapse  of  centuries  should  have  made  so 
little  change  in  physicians. — 

"'To  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,'  continued  "  Mod- 
estus,"  'my  principal  objection  to  the  publication  of  my 
history,  is  that  the  newspapers  might  make  capital  of  it.  I 
have  thought  of  entering  politics,  you  know.  The  socialistic 
labor  party  is  without  a  head,  and  some  influence  has  been 
brought  to  bear  upon  me  to  represent  it  in  the  next  election. 
Should  the  papers  make  capital  of  my  history,  my  political 
aspirations  would  be  nipped  in  the  bud — the  mere  suspicion 
of  the  possession  of  capital  would  ruin  me.  Capitalists  are 
somewhat  unpopular  with  my  party,  you  know.  Then,  too, 
the  manifestation  of  the  possession  of  a  certain  degree  of 
intelligence  would  be  against  my  political  success.' 

"  '  Well,'  I  answered,  '  I  will  be  very  careful  not  to  betray 
you.  There  is  one  possible  contingency,  however,  that  might 
compel  me  to  reveal  the  secret  of  your  extraordinary  intel- 
lectual capacity.  Your  appearance  is  so  suggestive  of  the 
opposite  condition, that  you  are  liable  to  be  drawn  for  jury 
duty  at  any  time,  and  nothing  but  positive  proof  of  the  pos- 
session of  at  least  a  brain  pan,  would  enable  you  to  escape  it.' 

"  '  You  forget,'  said  Skully,  'I  am  a  doctor,  and  cannot  be 
drawn  for  jury  duty.' 

"  '  And  now  for  my  story : ' 

"'I  was  first  born  in  India,  about  five  hundred  years 
ago— 

"'Excuse  me,  I  said,  in  some  bewilderment,  'but  did 
you  say  "first  born  "  ? ' 


220  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'Yes,  that's  precisely  what  I  said,'  replied  the  skull, 
'you  see,  I'm  a  Buddhist.  I  have  been  on  earth  twice. '- 

"  'As  I  said,  I  was  first  born  in  India.  My  primary  earthly 
career  was  not  of  great  interest,  I  believe.  The  only  infor- 
mation I  ever  had  upon  the  subject,  however,  was  gleaned 
from  certain  remarks  made  by  the  priests,  in  whose  society 
I  spent  some  years  of  my  life — no,  I  mean  death. 

"'You  will  perhaps  understand  that  while  I  have  had 
two  earthly  existences,  my  present  individuality  really  began 
with  the  last  one,  and  I  must  therefore  confine  my  narrative 
to  it.  Why,  I  don't  even  know  what  I  died  of,  or  anything-  like 
that,  regarding  my  first  time  on  earth!  The  post-mortem 
revealed  nothing.' 

"'How  unfortunate — and  how  familiar  a  tale!'  I  ex- 
claimed. 

"'Possibly,'  replied  Skully,  'but  it  is  not  an  unmixed 
evil — I  will  consume  less  of  your  time  in  the  narration  of  my 
autobiography. 

" '  My  second  advent  occurred  in  Europe,  several  hun- 
dred years  later.  I  will  not  give  the  exact  place  of  my  birth, 
as  I  do  not  wish  to  distress  my  descendants;  some  of  whom 
are  doubtless  still  living  and  worrying  about  the  fate  of  their 
remote  ancestor — as  one's  descendants  always  do. 

"  'My  boyhood  was  uneventful,  and  gave  no  promise  of 
future  greatness.  Like  most  scions  of  aristocratic  families, 
I  was  badly  pampered  and  spoiled — 

"'Why,'  I  said,  interrupting,  'do  you  know,  I  fancied 
I  noticed  when  I  boiled — 

"'Come,  come,  doctor!  no  sarcasm,  please;  that  is  an- 
other field  in  which  you  will  never  win  laurels!'  said  my 
friend,  severely. 

"  'It  was  not  until  I  was  quite  a  young  man,'  he  contin- 
ued, 'that  I  discovered  I  had  been  born  under  an  unlucky  star 
— I  found  that  I  possessed  versatility!' 

"  'Why,'Iasked,  with  some  surprise,  'was  not  versatility 
appreciated  in  those  days?  I  am  aware  that  it  is  at  a  dis- 
count at  the  present  time — specialism  has  done  away  with 
it — but  I  was  under  the  impression  that,  in  the  good  old  times, 
the  versatile  genius  was  quite  highly  regarded.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  221 

"  'Oh,  no,'  replied  Skully,  'far  from  it.  In  my  own  case 
the  possession  of  versatility  was  a  positive  disaster — indeed, 
it  proved  my  ruin.  Possibly  I  might  have  coped  successfully 
with  the  popular  prejudice,  had  not  my  work  been  so  far  in 
advance  of  the  times.  I  was  at  least  a  thousand  years  ahead 
of  the  mediocre  geniuses  of  my  day !' 

"'Ah,  indeed!'  I  exclaimed,  'and  in  what  particular 
direction,  did  your  brilliantly  scintillating  genius  endeavor 
to  guide  a  stupid  and  unappreciative  world?' 

"Pray,  do  not  hurry  me,  doctor,'  replied  Skully,  'Allow 
me  to  proceed  in  my  own  way  and  you  shall  have  my  entire 
history.  '— 

"  '  I  was  first  attracted  to  literature,  as  the  field  that  pro- 
mised most  for  my  budding  genius. 

"'Boy  though  I  was,  I  yet  produced  material  which, 
even  to-day,  stands  unequalled.  Most  authors  struggle  into 
full  development  by  slow  and  painful  effort,  but  my  genius 
blossomed  forth  into  full  maturity  as  blooms  the  rose.  'Twas 
as  though  the  bud  of  a  century -plant  of  the  intellect,  that 
had  lain  dormant  for  an  hundred  benighted  years,  had  burst 
forth  into  perfect  fruition  in  the  middle  of  the  literary  night! 
Originality,  audacity,  and  fearlessness  in  the  cause  of  truth, 
showed  in  every  line  of  my  work. 

"  '  The  literary  world  stood  amazed  !  And  then  came  my 
battle  with  the  critics.— 

"'At  first,  they  laughed  at  me,  yes,  sir,  they  actually 
laughed  at  me!  They  then  added  insult  to  injury,  by  claim- 
ing that  I  had  departed  from  the  truth! — that  my  work  was 
"over-drawn,  inaccurate,  preposterous!"  I,  the  model  of 
veracity,  had  written — lies !  Ye  gods ! — how  did  I  ever  stand 
it?' 

"'But  my  ardent,  progressive  spirit  could  not  be 
quenched — I  went  on  with  my  glorious  work,  even  while 
smarting  under  the  lash  of  asinine  and  vituperative  criticism. 

'"Essay  after  essay,  volume  after  volume,  reeled  from 
my  pen!  I  struck  blow  after  blow,  at  the  dense,  soulless, 
adamantine  wall  of  ignorant  public  opinion! 

"'Time  rolled  on,  and  the  public  stopped  to  listen — it 
finally  said,  "Well  done!"  The  victory  was  fairly  won,  and 


222  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

had  it  not  been  for  the  malevolence  of  the  critics,  who  followed 
me  like  bloodhounds,  the  name  of — ahem!  my  name  would 
have  become  immortal. 

"  'Ah!  my  dear  doctor — how  bitter  is  the  reflection  that 
our  life-work  has  but  served  as  a  firm  foundation  for  other 
and  undeserving-  men  to  build  their  unearned  fame  and  un- 
merited fortune  upon! 

"  '  My  work  was  stolen!  stolen,  sir! — stolen!' 

" '  You  may  imagine  the  bitterness  with  which  I  to-day 
see  my  wonderful  work  attributed  to  others!  And  such  a 
variety  of  work  !  Philosophy,  religion,  science,  letters,  the 
drama,  poetry — all  owe  their  very  life-blood  to  me — to  me, 
doctor,  to  me!' 

"  '  Pray,  be  calm,'  I  said,  'you  are  actually  working-  your- 
self into  a  rag-e.  Remember,  Skully,  that  your  cutaneous  and 
other  excretory  areas  are  not  active,  and  the  toxins  of  ang-er 
are  dang-erous.' 

"  '  Toxins ! '  he  exclaimed,  '  what  are  toxins  ? ' 

"  'Oh,  I'll  explain  them  to  you  some  time — if  they  don't 
g-o  out  of  fashion  before  I  get  around  to  it.  It  looks  as  thoug-h 
they  would  hold  water,  but — well,  you  have  yourself  practiced 
medicine  and  you  know  how  fashions  chang-e.  But  you  seem 
calmer  now — g-o  on  with  your  story,  and  remember  that  I,  at 
least,  appreciate  you.' 

"  'It  is  not  the  lack  of  appreciation  altog-ether,  that  dis- 
gusts me,'  he  resumed,  'but  I  do  despise  literary  pretenders 
and  thieves!  See  the  reputation  Cervantes  acquired  through 
Don  Quixote — my  creation,  sir,  mine!  Where  did  Le  Sage 
get  his  character  of  Doctor  Sangrado?  From  one  of  my 
essays— rby  the  great  Confucius !  Who  wrote  Junius' 
Letters? — /did!  Who  wrote  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly?— /did!  Who  wrote  the  immortal  plays  attributed  to 
that  pot-house  actor  and  all-around  loafer — Shakespeare? — 
/did,  sir! 

"  '  Do  you  wonder  that  my  blood — I  mean,  my  temper — 
boils?' 

"  'Excuse  me,  Skully,'  I  said,  'I  have  expressed  my  con- 
fidence in  you,  it  is  true,  but  you  mustn't  impose  on  good 
nature  too  far.  I  suppose  it  is  fair  enough  for  you  to  claim 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


223 


the  authorship  of  Junius'  Letters,  and  even  dear  old  Burton 
— nobody  knows  who  really  did  write  those  immortal  works — 
but  we  moderns  have  had  a  surfeit  of  pretenders  to  the 
writing's  of  Shakespeare.' 

" '  Why,  I  hope  you  do  not  class  me  with  such  men  as 
Ignatius  Donnelly  and  Orville  Owen,  do  you  ? '  asked  the  skull. 

'"Oh,  well,'  I  replied,  'they  are  not  half-bad  company, 
after  all.  I  believe  they  have  given  excellent  reasons  for 
their  views.  Shakespeare,  however,  is  one  of  our  household 


gods,  and  I  suppose 
we  may  not  wreigh  him 
in  the  balance  with  other 
authors.  We  must  take 
him  on  faith — the  way  most 
people  do  the  scriptures,' 
"  'Perhaps  I  was  a  little  hasty,  in 
repudiating  association  with  the 
gentlemen  whom  I  named — they  are 
probably  nice  fellows  enough,  and,  after 
all,  the  responsibility  of  the  steal  lies  with 
that  literary  buccaneer,  Lord  Bacon.  But,  when  a  fellow  is 
excited  he  is  apt  to  hit  the  nearest  head.  Pray,  don't  apply 
the  rule  to  me,  however,'  said  Skully,  smilingly.  'It  is  nat- 
ural that  Bacon,  of  all  men,  should  have  grabbed  every  lit- 
erary and  philosophic  plum  in  sight.  From  what  I  hear  of 
the  fellow,  he  was  always  regarded  as  a  bit  of  a  hog-,  by  those 
who  knew  him  best.' 

"  'Well,'  I  replied,  'it  is  at  least  by  no  means  surprising 
that  Bacon  should  be  claimed  to  be  the  author  of  some  of  the 


224  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

plays  so  familiarly  known  as  Shakespeare's.  There  is  a 
decided  flavor  of  similarity  to  Bacon's  style  in  some  of  them. 
Now,  for  example,  there's  Ham — 

"A  severe  look  from  the  skull,  warned  me  that  I  was  on 
dangerous  ground,  and  actually  frightened  all  the  satire  out 
of  me  for  the  moment. 

"  'Is  it  not  strange,'  continued  Skully,  'how  misfortunes 
run  in  families?  My  father,  before  me,  was  a  literary  man, 
and,  although  of  such  high  and  noble  birth,  was  one  of  the 
ablest  writers  of  fiction  of  his  day.  Like  his  unhappy  son, 
ho\vever,  he  was  robbed  of  the  honor  to  which  he  was  justly 
entitled.  My  father,  sir,  wrote  the  Pentateuch,  but  that 
arrogant  old  fellow,  Moses,  cribbed  the  whole  thing  bodily! 
You  moderns  may  well  congratulate  yourselves  on  the 
protection  afforded  by  the  copyright  law.' 

"'But,'  I  said,  in  astonishment,  'do  you  really  mean  to 
assert  that  your  father  wrote  the  Pentateuch?  There  is  a 
confusion  of  dates  somewhere.' 

"  'Not  at  all,  doctor,  not  at  all,'  replied  the  genial  Skully, 
'  my  father  was  also  a  Buddhist — my  first  father  I  mean. 
Besides,  the  Pentateuch  isn't  so  awfully  old  as  some  would 
have  us  believe.' 

"  'Oh,  I  see,'  I  replied — though  I  didn't  see  a  little  bit— 
and  the  skull  went  on  with  his  story. — 

•''I  finally  grew  disgusted  with  general  literature,  and 
determined  to  give  it  up — for  a  time  at  least. 

"  '  During  the  course  of  my  literary  labors,  my  atten- 
tion was  directed  to  natural  history  from  time  to  time.  I 
finally  conceived  a  liking  for  the  study,  and  when  I  decided 
to  cease  writing  on  general  topics  for  the  time  being,  I  very 
naturally  concluded  to  indulge  my  penchant  for  natural  his- 
tory in  a  practical  manner,  by  travel,  and  observation  of  the 
fauna  and  flora  of  foreign  countries. 

"'During  the  progress  of  my  labors,  I  developed  some 
facts  and  theories  that  some  of  your  modern  scientists  have 
greedily  appropriated,  without  the  slightest  allusion  to  the 
real  discoverer  of  the  scientific  facts  they  claim  as  their  own. 
It  has  not  surprised  me  so  much,  that  my  general  literary 
work  has  been  stolen,  but  scientific  men  should  be  above 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  225 

suspicion,  and  I  am  astonished  at  the  effrontery  and  dis- 
honesty of  some  of  them. 

"'Is  it  not  surprising-,  that  such  men  as  Darwin  and 
Wallace,  should  coolly  steal  my  thunder? 

"  '  What ! '  I  cried,  '  do  you  mean  to  say  that  those  grand, 
immortal  scientists  have — 

"  '  I — mean — just — what — I — said — sir,'  replied  the  skull, 
with  a  fine  show  of  dignity,  '/  was  the  originator  of  the 
modern  theory  of  evolution.  The  first  primitive  suggestion 
of  its  possibility  was  originated  by  a  Hindee  philosopher, in 
the  thirteenth  century,  or  thereabouts,  and  was  developed  by 
myself. 

'"Darwin,  forsooth!  Why,  doctor,  he  hadn't  the  faint- 
est idea  of  the  true  character  of  the  missing1  link!  I  discov- 
ered, not  one  link,  but  a  thousand.  'Twas  I,  who  discovered 
the  Caudate  men  of  Africa.'* 

"' Caudate  men!'  I  exclaimed,  greatly  interested.  'You 
astonish  me!  Would  it  be  asking-  too  much  to  request  you  to 
describe  them  to  me?  I  really  must  bring-  the  subject  up  at 
the  Academy  of  Sciences — provided  you  will  give  me  the  data. ' 

"  'With  pleasure,  my  dear  doctor,  if  you  will  but  excuse 
brevity. 

"  '  The  "  Fakees,"  as  I  called  them,  or  human  caudates, 
were,  as  I  have  said,  inhabitants  of  Africa.  I  entered  their 
country  in  the  spring-  of  1700,  and  the  first  villag-e  that  I  saw 
in  the  wild,  unbroken  forest,  greatly  surprised  me.  There 
was  only  one  habitation,  which  was  in  the  form  of  a  queer- 
looking-  tunnel,  about  one-hundred  and  fifty  feet  long-,  made  of 
sticks  meeting  at  the  top  like  the  sides  of  the  letter  A,  and 
covered  with  dried  leaves  and  twig's.  This  tunnel  was  a  little 
more  than  three  feet  high,  six  or  seven  feet  wide  at  the  base 
of  the  triangie,  and  was  open  at  each  end. 

"'Some  wild,  hairy  children,  who  were  playing-  outside 
this  queer-looking  structure,  raised  a  terrified  howl  as  soon 
as  they  saw  the  strange  man  and  his  party,  and  at  once 
some  wild-looking  creatures  rushed  out  of  their  tunnel  and 
scampered  away  into  the  woods  like  so  many  monkeys. 


*  With  a  humble  apology  to  M.  D'Enjoy,  the  real  (?)  discoverer  of  the  "human 
caudatps."  —  AUTHOK. 


226  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

" '  These  Fakee  tribes  are  very  likely  the  alleged 
"monkeys,"  whose  terrific  battles  with  the  gods  are  de- 
scribed in  the  sacred  book  of  India. 

" '  One  of  the  wild  men  was  up  a  larg-e  tree,  engaged  in 
gathering-  honey.  He  was  greatly  alarmed  by  the  flight  of 
his  companions,  and  came  down  as  fast  as  he  could,  stepping 
on  pegs  of  wood  that  had  been  driven  into  the  tree,  until  he 
was  about  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground,  when  he  sprang  down 
and  tried,  with  head  lowered  like  a  bull,  to  break  through  the 
circle  of  men  who  had  surrounded  the  tree;  but  he  was  cap- 
tured after  a  desperate  struggle. 

"  'After  a  while  I  induced  him  to  talk  to  me.  He  was  a 
tall,  well-made,  handsome  fellow  with  vigorous,  hairy  limbs, 
and  looked  like  a  bronze  statue.  His  ankle  bones  were 
enormous,  like  those  of  his  friends,  and,  wonderful  to  relate, 
he  had  an. unmistakable  tail! 

"'This  amazing  discovery  startled  me.  I  approached 
him,  and  to  be  certain  that  I  was  not  the  victim  of  an  illusion, 
I  felt  with  my  hand  his  caudal  appendage.  I  convinced  myself 
in  this  manner  that  the  vertebral  column  of  the  Fakee  was 
prolonged  beyond  his  body  by  six  or  seven  small  vertebrae  so 
as  to  form  a  little  tail  like  that  of  a  deer. 

"  '  When  I  spoke  to  the  prisoner  about  his  caudal  append- 
age, its  fortunate  and  apparently  proud  possessor  drew 
himself  up  to  his  full  height  as  he  remarked,  that  all  the 
Fakees  had  tails.  The  tail,  he  said,  was  the  sign  of  the  pure 
Fakee  race,  and  it  was  becoming  rarer  with  every  succeeding 
generation.  There  was  a  time  when  the  Fakee  kings  had 
tails  that  were  three  cubits  in  length,  but  the  tribes  had  been 
driven  away  from  the  rich  and  fertile  plains  of  their  fathers, 
into  the  wild  region  where  I  had  found  the  captured  man,  and, 
in  the  later  degenerate  age,  the  nation's  pride,  the  tail,  had 
been  gradually  disappearing. 

"  '  The  statement  of  the  captured  Fakee  explains  why  no 
one  has  found  the  species  of  recent  years. 

"  '  The  man  whom  I  captured  was  much  taken  with  me — 
as  well  as  by  me— and  led  me  to  his  village.  It  seemed  that 
he  was  chief  of  the  tribe.  To  my  astonishment,  I  found  in 
the  village,  a  population  of  over  one  thousand  persons,  each 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


227 


with  a  handsome  tail.  You  will  understand  that  I  was  com- 
pelled to  take  for  granted,  the  existence  of  a  caudal  appendage 
in  the  Fakee  women — they  were  very  modest  and  refined 
ladies.' 

"  '  How  on  earth  did  you  manage  to  converse  with  them?' 
I  asked. 

"Skully  smiled  pityingly,  and  said,  'Why,  my  dear  sir,  I 
ante-dated  Professor  Garner  in  the  study  of  the  monkey 


OF   THE   FAKEE   BLOOD   ROYAL. 

language,  by  some  hundreds  of  years.  The  Fakees  spoke 
the  ancestral  anthropoid  tongue  in  all  its  simplicity.— 

"  'As  you  will  readily  understand,  doctor,  after  having 
been  told  my  discoveries,  the  modern  school  of  evolutionists 
makes  me  very  weary.' 

"'You  are  certainly  a  most  remarkable  man — I -mean 
skull,'  I  said,  wonderingly. 

"'You  compliment  me,  sir,'  replied  Skully,  'I  flatter 
myself  however,  that  my  extraordinary  cranial  contour  would 
suggest,  even  to  the  superficial  observer,  that  I  am  no  ordin- 


228  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

ary  anatomical  preparation.     You  will  confess  that  you  have 
never  met  another  individual  like  myself.' 

'"I  should  say  not,  most  emphatically!'  I  replied,  mar- 
velling- meanwhile  at  my  friend's  innate  and  somewhat 
freakish  egotism. 

"  'It  would  consume  entirely  too  much  of  your  valuable 
time,  and  might  necessitate  another  social  pill  of  the  magic 
paste, '  continued  Skully,  '  were  I  to  tell  you  all  of  my  adven- 
tures in  my  various  tours  of  travel,  observation  and  scientific 
study. 

"'My  experiences  have  been  little  short  of  marvellous, 
though  to  be  sure,  I  cannot  claim  to  have  had  such  remarkable 
adventures  as  have  been  described  by  Jules  Verne  and  others 
—more  literary  freebooters  by  the  way.  In  the  words  of 
Peter  Pindar — 

'  "  Nor  have  I  been  where  men  (what  loss,  alas !) 
Kill  half  a  cow,  then  send  the  rest  to  grass. " 

"'On  my  return  to  Europe,  I  published  a  number  of 
volumes  in  which  I  furnished  a  new  and  scientific  classifica- 
tion of  plants  and  animals,  based  upon  my  exhaustive 
researches.' 

"  'I  am  very  glad  to  hear  that,  friend  Skully,'  I  said,  'it 
was  high  time  you  were  appreciated,  and  scientific  men  must 
have  flocked  to  your  standard  with  the  wildest  enthusiasm.' 

"  There  was  an  expression  of  martyr-like  resignation  on 
the  classic  features  of  the  skull,  as  he  answered — 

"'Alas!  your  inference  is  born  of  your  sincerity  and 
candour!  It  shows  the  simple  honesty  and  conscientiousness 
of  the  true  modern  scientist.  Unfortunately,  however,  so- 
called  men  of  science  flocked  to  my  standard,  not  to  applaud 
and  uphold  it,  but  seeking  whatsoever  they  might  steal. 

"'Ah!  my  dear  boy— for  you  are  but  a  child  compared 
with  myself — you  know  not  how  it  galled  me  to  have  my  work 
ignored,  misrepresented  and  pilfered!  And  the  miserable 
thefts 'have  gone  on  and  on!  In  somewhat  recent  years, 
Linnaeus,  the  Darwins,  Wallace,  Huxley,  Tyndall  and  Spen- 
cer, have  hoodwinked  the  public  and  gained  immortality  for 
themselves  by  facts  and  theories  which  they  have  stolen — yes 
sir,  stolen  like  the  ordinary  vulgar  thieves  that  they  are,  from 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  229 

my  work.'  As  he  spoke,  a  mass  of  modest,  liquefying-  osteo- 
phytes  trickled  slowly  down  my  friend's  by  no  means  tender 
cheek. 

"  '  The  situation  was  becoming-  somewhat  embarrassing-. 
Desiring-  to  divert  the  current  of  his  thoug-hts  from  the  per- 
secutions to  which  he  had  been  subjected  during-  life,  it 
occurred  to  me  to  appeal  to  his  memory  of  tender  sentiment 
— if  he  ever  had  any,  and  I  said — 

"'By  the  way,  Skully,  your  autobiography,  though  fas- 
cinating- indeed,  is  yet  incomplete.  It  has  no  ting-e  of 
romance.  Were  you  ever  married?' 

"  My  friend  stopped  weeping-  and  glared  at  me  furiously. 

"  4  Married ! '  he  shrieked,  '  was—/ — ever — married?  Be- 
hold this  ruin!  There  I  go — I'll  be  saying  "'tis  a  skull!" 
myself,  next,  if  I'm  not  careful!  Married! — Well,  I  should 
remark!  Look  at  me  sir!  Just  look  at  me!  But,  my  dear 
friend,  I  mustn't  discuss  that  subject.  You  are  happy  enough 
in  your  matrimonial  relations,  as  the  world  goes,  while  I — well 
every  dog  has  its  day  and  I  have  had  several  days.  Doctor, 
'tis  a  painful  memory!  Why,  /have  done  time  in  the  tread- 
mill of  domestic  bliss!  Don't  ever  ask  me  about  that 
particular  phase  of  my  career  again.  Whenever  you  want  to 
know  the  true  status  of  my  opinions  on  love  and  marriage — 
look  at  my  occiput.  There  you  will  find  a  little  inscription 
that  one  of  your  young  lady  friends  wrote  upon  my  hairless, 
scalpless  cranium  the  other  day. 

"I  turned  the  skull  around  and  read — 

"  '  And  woman's  love  is  a  bitter  fruit, 

And  howe'er  he  bite  it  or  sip, 
There's  man}'  a  man  has  lived  to  curse 
The  taste  of  that  fruit  on  his  lip. ' 

"  '  Why,'  I  said,  'what  inspired  that  sentiment?  There 
is  nothing  striking  about  it,  and  I  am  sure  it  is  not  original.' 
Then,  as  a  horrible  suspicion  flashed  through  my  mind,  I 
exclaimed — 

"'Great  heavens,  Skully!  you  were  not  talking  to  that 
young  woman,  I  hope?' 

"The  skull  looked  at  me  quizzically  and  replied,  'No — I 
couldn't,  as  you  well  know.  I  suppose  the  sweet  young  thing 


230 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


divined  at  once,  that  I  was  the  relic  of  an  extraordinary  man, 
and  as  her  reading-  has  led  her  to  the  conclusion  that  love  is 
the  only  thing-  that  kills  such  people,  she  quite  naturally 
inferred  that  that  was  what  killed  me — hence  her  quotation. 
And  she  was  not  far  from  rig-ht,  it  did  almost  kill  me — as  I 
have  said;  I  served  my  time  in  the  matrimonial  state.'  " 


"Well,  my  boy,  here  we  are  at  our  old  tricks  again — play- 
ing- the  night  owl !  I  fancy  we  had  better  leave  our  friend 
Skully  at  this  point.  I  can  assure  you  that  he  will  be  with  us 
ag-ain  at  our  next  meeting-,  and,  from  his  sleepy  expression,  I 
am  convinced  that  he  is  perfectly  willing-  to  be  excused  for 
to-nig-ht.  Good  nig-ht,  boy,  and  pray  do  not  dream  of  our  bon 
camarade — Skully. " 


\ 


THE  RHODOMONTADE  OF  A  SOCIABLE  SKULL, 


II. 


HE  magic  cup — the  glowing  wine 
Hath  naught  of  mystic  spell 

like  thine, 

The  Circe  drug  from  Orient, 
Ne'er   to   my   dreams    such 

pleasure  lent 
As  thou,  oh  leaf  of  wond'rous 

pow'r— 
Thou  makest  fair  the  passing 

hour. 


THE  RHODOMONTADE  OF  A  SOCIABLE  SKULL, 

II. 


S   I    strolled    to- 
ward the  doctor's 
comfortable   home,   I 
contrasting  the  life  of 
the    prosperous   physician 
with   that    of   the  average 
medical    student.     It    oc- 
curred to  me  that  the  lat- 
ter, during  his  colleg'e  days,  earns  all  the  comfort  he  may 
eventually  acquire. 

The  medical  student  is,  of  all  men,  the  one  who  ought  to 
be  compensated  in  after-life  for  the  hardships  and  annoyances 
that  he  almost  always  suffers  during  his  student  days — 
unless  he  lives  at  home,  and  the  fellow  who  does,  is  a  mere 
counterfeit  student. 

Was  there  ever  anything  more  distinctively  sui  generis 
than  a  medical  student's  boarding-house  ? 

The  landlady  is  usually  a  widow  of  uncertain  age — a  lady 
of  striking  peculiarities  and  manifold  talents.  She  is  a 
woman  who  never  hides  her  light  under  a  bushel — her 
measures  do  not  run  so  large,  nor  does  she  have  light  to 
spare. 

The  widow  has  had  a  husband,  sometime  or  other — I  had 
supposed  this  was  usually  the  case  with  widow  ladies,  until  I 
heard  my  landlady  discuss  the  subject  several  times,  when  I 


236  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

concluded    that    husbands    were    a    special   dispensation  of 
Providence  in  the  past  lives  of  some  widows. 

The  husband,  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Jenkyns,  must  have 
been  a  dispensation  of  Providence — unless  he  was  blind. 
Indeed,  Providence  must  have  taken  great  interest  in  the 
comfort  of  Mrs.  Jenkyns'  husband,  for  he  died  soon  after 
"our  youngest"  was  born — which  shows  how  a  kind  Provi- 
dence sometimes  rectifies  mistakes.  How  sweet  to  die,  and 
feel  that  our  change  must  surely  be  for  the  better ! 

Life  still  seems  to  hold  fair  hopes  for  the  dear  old  lady! 
Can  it  be  that  she  aspires  to  a  second  baptism  in  the  divine 
fire?  Is  yet  another  blind  man  destined  to  cavort  around  in 
the  widow's  comedy-drama  of  life?  Heaven  pity  the  blind — 
their  woes  appear  to  have  no  end? 

Mrs.  Jenkyns  has  certain  de-appetizing  characteristics 
that  should  be  highly  profitable  to  her.  Her  hair  is  of  that 
hard-to-find-in-the-hash  shade,  which  is  so  disquieting  to  one 
of  fastidious  tastes  and  delicate  appetite.  Her  complexion  is 
of  that  shiny  type,  so  suggestive  of  the  cosmetic  effects  of 
second-hand  bacon  rind — it  is  oozy,  perspiry  and  slippery 
to  the  eye,  the  struggles  of  the  cutaneous  transpiration  to 
free  its  scattered  droplets  from  the  imprisoning-  grease, 
being  all  too  painfully  evident. 

The  one  feature  of  the  landlady's  face  that  is  bewilder- 
ingly  uniform,  all  the  world  over — in  character  if  not  in 
outline — is  her  nose.  There  is  a  "snooping-,"  insinuating-, 
wonder-what-he's-doingair  about  it,  that  is  very  exasperating 
to  one  who  enjoys  privacy. 

And  the  nose  is  by  no  means  of  a  retiring-  and  modest 
disposition — it  is  habited  in  couleur  de — well,  "  coulcur  de 
brick"  I  should  say — that  makes  the  generalized  dusky-red  of 
her  greasy,  shiny  face,  pale,  delicate  pink  by  contrast. 

One  would  not  mind  these  various  attributes  of  the  old 
girl's  proboscis,  if  it  were  not  constantly  so  sneezy,  snivelly, 
ozaenically  moist. 

Many  a  time,  as  the  ancient  dame  has  bustled  about  her 
kitchen,  washing  dishes  or  baking  pies,  still  oftener  when 
she  has  gracefully  bowed  her  lovely  head  over  my  plate  as 
she  handed  me  my  soup  at  dinner,  I  have  felt  like  a  con- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  237 

demned  criminal,  standing-  in  the  shadow  of  the  gallows-tree, 
hopeless,  despairing-  and  thoroughly  miserable,  waiting  in 
dreadful  expectation  for — but  I  forbear. 

And  her  eyes!  What  student  does  not  remember  his 
landlady's  eyes?  Even  now,  as  I  sit  speculating-  on  my 
chances  of  getting  fees  enough  to  settle  for  my  commutation 
ticket,  at  the  little  restaurant  kept  by  "Italian  John  "  around 
the  corner,  I  recall  with  swelling,  overwhelming  emotion,  my 
landlady's  eyes.  With  what  a  stony  stare  did  they  gaze  upon 
me,  when  I  was  behind-hand  with  my  board  and  asked  for  a 
second  helping- of  "blind  robins,"  otherwise  known  as  dried 
herring,  at  breakfast,  or  another  cut — not  piece — of  pie  at 
dinner! 

Those  bleary,  watery,  cadaveric  eyes !  those  windows  of 
a  soul  that  had  been  shrouded  in  Cimmerian  gloom  ever  since 
Josh 'way,  her  husband,  escaped — no,  I  mean  died!  Peer  not 
hitherward  at  me,  oh  cold,  fishy,  and  unsympathetic  orbs! 
Shadows  of  the  leaden  past — the  days  of  my  digestive  martyr- 
dom— roll  not  away,  but  envelop  the  vision  of  my  memory  in 
thy  protecting,  all  obscuring  folds ! 

Some  one  has  said  that  a  truly  refined  woman  has  a  flavor 
of  personality  about  her;  an  odor  peculiar  to  herself;  a  balm 
of  Araby,  that  is  neither  violet,  jasmine,  musk  nor  oil  of  rose, 
but  a  scent  as  of  a  sweet  zephyr,  wafted  from  the  gardens  of 
an  ever-blooming,  fragrant,  flowery  paradise,  and  laden  \vith 
the  essence  of  a  thousand  beautiful  exotic  blossoms.  To  me, 
it  is  suggestive  of  witchery,  of  oriental  balm,  of  languorous 
bliss  and  dreamy  emotions;  it  is — well,  it  is  she,  the  one  per- 
fect being  of  whom  every  man  dreams,  in  very  self. 

By  what  standard  shall  I  gauge  the  olfactory  impressions 
conveyed  by  my  landlady?  Who  can  describe  that  subtle 
aroma  of  soap-suds,  sebum,  perspiration  and  the  pensive, 
dreamy  onion  of  old  Spain?  Is  it  indeed  a  sweet-scented 
breeze  from  far-away  Old  Castile — or  is  it  some  other  and 
more  "  sudsey  "  brand?  Quien  Sabe  ? 

The  children,  of  whom  there  are  always  two — and  who 
knows  why  there  should  invariably  be  this  exact  number? — 
are  also  sui generis. 


238  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

The  eldest  is  a  daughter,  of  course.  She  is  generally  a 
blonde,  of  the  peroxide  type,  with  a  voice  that  perpetually 
stands  as  a  target  for  the  family  regret  of  poverty — a  voice 
that  would  have  made  her  famous,  had  mamma  possessed 
"means  to  cultivate  it!"  And  then,  when  you  suggest  con- 
sulting the  Department  of  Agriculture  at  Washington — 
mamma  gets  real  mad. 

Sapphira  is  nothing  if  not  bewitching — she  has  a.  penchant 
for  young  students  who  have  never  been  away  from  home 
before — young  fellows  who  don't  know  a  hawk  from  a  hand- 
saw and  to  whom  the  society  of  ladies  is  an  unknown  world. 
Before  their  first  college  term  is  over,  Sapphira  has  the  scalps 
of  a  dozen  of  these  callow  youths  dangling  at  her  belt.  They 
would  all  propose  to  her  at  once,  if  they  knew  how,  and  had 
the  nerve. 

And  Sapphira  longs  for  the  second  term,  when  the  boys 
shall  be  older  and  more  self-confident.  Meanwhile,  the 
summer  vacation  comes  and  they  spend  a  few  weeks  in  the 
city — and  get  experience. 

The  opening  of  their  second  college  course  arrives  all  too 
soon,  and  the  boys  return  to  their  old  places  at  Sapphira's 
mamma's  never  gay  and  seldom  festive  board. 

There's  no  use  trying  to  change  boarding  places  —  a 
fellow  always  finds  that  the  new  one  is  just  a  little  worse  than 
the  old. 

Sapphira  gazes  at  the  boys  in  gloating  exultation.  They 
are  more  manly,  bolder;  some  of  them  are  bewhiskered;  all 
are  evidently  more  experienced — but  they  don't  propose!  — 
not  any. 

No  more  do  those  wary  boys  linger  in  the  parlor  after 
supper,  listening  to  the  soul-stirring  tones  of  Sapphira's  voice 
and  the  clickety-clack  of  her  piano  accompaniment,  as  she 
sings,  "Where  is  my  wandering  boy  to-night?"  No  more 
will  they  beat  time  to  the  rataplan  of  the  "  Turkish  Patrol," 
which,  as  she  renders  it,  is  so  suggestive  of  "  bones  "  at  the 
minstrels !  No  more  will  the  boys  swear  at  each  other  under 
their  breaths  and  fight  imaginary  duels  among  themselves, 
for  the  yearned-for  favor  of  Sapphira's  smiles! 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


239 


Sapphira  has  had  her  wish — the  boys  have  developed  a 
nerve  like  Greenland's  icy  mountains- — but  alas!  thing's  are 
not  coming-  the  fair  maiden's  way!  And  so  the  sweet  young- 
thing-  must  begin  all  over  again,  and  nurse  the  bubbling-  emo- 
tions and  tender  affections  of  another  batch  of  "juniors." 

But,  "  never  yet,  was  goose  so  gray  but  soon  or  late  " 
Sapphira  finally  lands  her  man,  or  rather,  boy.     Sooner  or 


"\VHERE    IS    MY   WANDERING    BOY 
TO-NIGHT?' 

later,  one  of  those  vapid  imbeciles  whose  parents  have  fool- 
ishly sent  him  to  a  medical  college,  instead  of  placing  him  in 
an  institution  for  the  feeble-minded,  strolls  into  the  fair 
Sapphira's  net  and — all  is  over. 

The  landlady's  other  child  is  a  boy — and  make  no  mis- 
take about  the  sex.  His  mother  says  he  is  "just  like  his 
lamented  pa  " — an  assertion  which,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  not 
precisely  true,  for  "pa"  is  very  dead — or  absent.  I  will  state 


240  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

in  passing-, that  there  are  theories  regarding-  pa,  which  do  not 
perfectly  agree  with  the  landlady's  historical  mortuary 
account  of  the  absence  of  that  interesting-  "has-been."  No, 
the  boy  is  not  like  his  pa,  for,  drat  him  !  he  is  alive,  healthy, 
and  very  much  in  evidence — and,  in  addition,  he  is  the  most 
unmitig-ated  nuisance  the  world  ever  saw! 

"Sammy,"  as  Mrs.  Jenkyns  calls  her  hopeful,  is  a  boy  of 
iron  constitution  and  unquenchable,  insatiable  curiosity. 
Only  the  combination  of  these  qualities  could  ever  have  pre- 
served his  life,  on  several  occasions.  His  escapes  from  death 
have  been  absolutely  miraculous.  You  can't  kill  him,  I'll 
swear  to  that,  for,  well,  to  be  honest,  /  have  tried  it  and 
failed!  and  what  a  student  of  medicine,  with  a  taste  for 
amateur  prescribing  and  drug-  experimentation  cannot  kill, 
the  same  shall  not  be  killed!  I  have  even  laid  traps  for  Sammy, 
leaving  poisonous  drug's  about,  where  his  infernal  curiosity 
was  sure  to  lead  him  into  dangerous  investigation,  but  it  was 
no  use,  and  I  finally  gave  it  up  as  a  bad  job — and  an  expensive 
one. 

Never  did  Sammy  g-et  the  worst  of  it  but  once.  The 
little  demon  is  very  fond  of  pie.  It  has  ever  been  the 
students'  boast  that  that  boy  can  out-do  any  "pie  biter  "  in 
the  county.  We  have  perfect  confidence  in  his  ability  to  eat 
seventeen  pies,  providing1  a  plate  be  not  rung1  in  on  him — and 
we  are  not  so  sure  about  the  plate. 

Seeing-  that  the  boarders  were  somewhat  jealous  of 
Sammy's  large  and  numerous  helping's  of  pastry,  the  old  lady 
finally  baked  a  small  pie  separate  from  the  rest,  especially  for 
the  little  gourmand. 

The  old  girl  wras  in  the  habit  of  paring-  and  quartering" 
her  choicest  apples  and  laying-  them  aside  for  Sammy's  pretty 
little  pie.  One  of  our  boys,  who  was  a  bit  of  a  practical  joker 
and  inordinately  fond  of  pie  himself,  observed  this  maneuver 
on  the  old  lady's  part,  and  resolved  to  have  revenge. 

Slipping-  into  the  kitchen  one  day,  when  the  landlady  had 
left  the  room  for  a  moment,  our  student  abstracted  a  bar  of 
hard  soap  from  a  box  that  stood  beside  the  pan  in  which  the 
specially  prepared  apples  were  kept.  With  his  jack-knife,  he 
whittled  from  the  soap  an  artistic  model  of  a  quarter-section 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  241 

of  apple;  he  then  put  the  counterfeit  into  the  pan  among-  the 
real  articles,  and  made  his  escape. 

Mrs.  Jenkyns  was  very  near  sighted — she  couldn't  see 
beyond  the  end  of  her  nose,  for  more  reasons  than  one,  per- 
haps. She  sliced  up  the  counterfeit  piece  of  apple,  placed  it 
in  Sammy's  pie,  and  having  finished  it  a  la  mode,  proceeded  to 
bake  it  as  usual. 

As  might  be  supposed,  we  had  been  apprised  of  the  treat 
in  store  for  us — and  for  Sammy — and  were  on  the  qui  vive 
for  developments. 

Sammy  got  his  pie  according-  to  programme,  and  with  his 
customary  expression  of  hellish  satisfaction,  proceeded  to 
devour  it. 

Now,  Sammy  was  not  the  most  graceful  eater  in  the 
world — he  was  g-iven  to  huge  mouth fuls,  and  capacious  swal- 
lows of  imperfectly  masticated  food.  On  this  occasion,  he 
did  himself  proud — he  had  swallowed  quite  a  quantity  of  the 
saponaceous  pie,  before  his  all-too-tardy  taste  warned  him  of 
trouble. 

Sammy  was  sick — indeed,  he  was  very  sick !  He  actually 
frothed  at  the  mouth.  We  boys  said  he  was  "poisoned;" 
one  young-  gentleman,  however,  inquired  very  particularly 
whether  our  victim  had  been  bitten  by  a  dog  lately.  The  old 
lady  fairly  begged  us  to  use  a  stomach  pump — and  we  did! 

Revenge  is  sweet,  they  say,  but  pumping  that  soap 
factory  out  of  Sammy's  stomach  was  more  than  sweet — 'twas 
bliss,  exalted  and  ineffable  bliss! 


The  memory  of  the  mysteries  of  my  landlady's  cuisine 
recalls  a  feature  of  her  table  which  is  even  now  productive  of 
degout.— 

'Tis  an  unappetizing  recollection ! 

If  there  was  a  single  day,  aye,  a  single  meal,  when  our 
dessert  was  not  flanked  by  a  large  dish  of  stewed  prunes,  I 
do  not  now  recall  it.  Prunes!  prunes!  prunes!  morning 
noon  and  night — and  especially  at  noon!  Whenever  the  land- 
lady's exchequer  was  running  low — as  it  did  sometimes  when 
our  remittances  from  home  were  delayed — we  were  gently 
reminded  of  her  necessities,  .by  a  strictly  prune  diet  at 


242  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

luncheon.  It  required  but  a  few  days  of  this  sort  of  thing  to 
properly  humble  the  delinquent  students  and  bring-  them  to 
a  realizing  sense  of  their  obligations.  The  most  intrepid 
spirit  quailed  under  that  regimen — which  by  the  way,  was 
the  nearest  approach  to  quail  that  I  ever  experienced  during 
my  college  career. 

I  have  often  regretted  that  my  landlady  surfeited  me 
with  a  fruit  that  others  seem  to  enjoy.  Since  my  college 
days,  the  gay  and  festive  prune  has  had  no  fascination  for  me. 
I  still  cling  to  it  as  an  occasional  therapeutic  resource,  but  as 
a  titillator  of  the  palate  it  is  to  me  a  failure;  it  is  no  longer  a 
source  of  gastronomic  joy. 

"Hallo  dar,  Marse  Frank!  Reckon  yo's  kummin'  hyar 
ain't  yo'?  'Pears  like  yo's  absen'  minded  sah;  yo'  wuz  jes' 
gwine  right  erlong  pas'  de  house.  De  doctah  iz  er  waitin'  fo' 
yo'  in  de  library  an'  he  done  tole  me  ter  leff  de  do'  open  fo'  yo' 
'all.' 


'Well,  young  man,"  said  the  doctor,  "you  seem  good 
natured  and  happy  to-night.  I  don't  know  but  I  had  better 
let  you  do  the  entertaining  and  devote  my  own  attention  to 
my  faithful  hookah. 

"  You  can't  tell  stories !  Well,  I  doubt  that  assertion 
sir,  and  if  I  ever  get  the  opportunity,  I  shall  certainly  try  to 
draw  you  out.  But  we  have  the  autobiography  of  yonder 
modest  skull  under  consideration,  and  as  it  is  already  later 
than  we  usually  begin  our  story-telling,  we  will  have  a  glass 
of  punch  and  continue  the  narrative  of  my  friend  Skully." 


"  '  To  one  who  does  not  understand  the  spirit  of  industry 
which  characterizes  the  genius — and  especially  the  versatile 
genius,'  said  Skully  continuing,  'it  might  seem  remarkable 
that  I  should  have  struggled  on  and  on,  seeking  for  recognition 
and  laurels  by  developing  discoveries  beneficial  to  my  fellow 
man.  I  will  not  say  that  even  /was  not  tempted  at  times  to 
retire  from  the  world  and  sequester  my  wonderful  talent  in 
humble  retirement,  but  my  impulses  in  this  direction  were 
ever  momentary  and  fleeting.  The  thirst  for  knowledge  was 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  243 

too  strong-  within  me — I  could  not  waste  my  marvelous  intel- 
lectuality and  allow  the  fair  fields  of  my  knowledge  to  lie 
fallow — I  had,  moreover,  too  much  philanthropy  for  that. 

"  '  Tiring-  of  the  ceaseless  pillaging-  to  which  so-called 
"scientists"  had  subjected  the  results  of  my  researches  in 
natural  history,  I  resolved  to  enter  a  different  line  of  study, 
and  turned  my  hand  to  applied  chemistry  and  mechanical 
invention.' 

"  'Ah,  indeed ! '  I  exclaimed,  '  you  must  have  startled  your 
compatriots,  when  your  remarkable  inventive  g-enius  got 
fairly  under  way ! ' 

"  '  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  doctor,  I  did  stir  them  up  a 
little,  yet  none  of  my  discoveries  were  ever  accredited  to  me, 
and  the  best  of  them  were  never  published,  even  obscurely. 

"'Since  I  have  had  the  opportunity  of  cultivating-  your 
society,  my  dear  doctor,  I  have,  on  several  occasions,  been 
forcibly  reminded  of  some  of  my  wonderful  discoveries. 
Why,  sir,  when  I  see  you  slaving-  away  with  your  books, 
papers  and  patients,  trying-  to  live  and  let  live,  and  think  of 
the  position  you  mig-ht  be  in,  were  you  possessed  of  my 
knowledg-e  in  certain  directions,  my  heart — or  rather,  my 
head — aches  for  you. 

"'Supposing-,  for  example,  that  you  were  familiar  with 
my  process  of  making-  diamonds — you  could  make  yourself 
rich  in  a  single  day/ 

"'What!'  I  cried  in  astonishment,  'do  you  mean  to 
assert  that  you  ever  made  diamonds?' 

"  'I  most  certainly  do,'  he  replied,  'I  long-  ago  proved  the 
possibility  of  their  manufacture  beyond  all  peradventure  of 
doubt.  I  never  published  the  process,  because,  had  it  become 
known,  diamonds  \vould  have  been  cheaper  than  coal.' 

"  'You  astonish  me!'  I  said.  'It  is  true  that  diamonds 
can  be  made  artificially,  even  now-a-days,  but  they  are  mere 
microscopic  specks,  and  it  is  quite  unlikely  that  we  will  ever 
make  them  large  enough  to  appreciably  disturb  the  diamond 
market.  Can  it  be  possible  that  you  ever  made  them  of 
sufficient  size  to  be  of  real  value,  save  as  curiosities?' 

"  '  You  may  be  sure  I  did,'  replied  Skully,  '  nor  do  I  think 
the  feat  was  anything  remarkable.  Your  scientists  now-a- 


244  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

days,  are  away  behind  the  times.  The  basis  of  their  process 
of  diamond  making-,  like  many  another  of  your  modern  inven- 
tions, is  entirely  too  artificial.  Now,  I  developed  my  process 
along-  perfectly  natural  lines,  by  imitating-  the  method  by 
which  diamonds  were  originally  produced  in  nature — as  you 
will  observe,  if  you  will  extend  me  the  courtesy  of  listening- 
to  a  brief  description  of  the  principles  involved  in  my  pro- 
cess.' 

" '  To  say  that  I  was  all  attention,  would  convey  but  a 
faint  impression  of  the  effect  the  words  of  the  skull  had  upon 
me.  To  supply  myself  with  pencil  and  paper,  required  but 
a  moment — I  then  awaited  the  pleasure  of  the  skull,  with  as 
much  patience  as  I  could  summon — which  was  little  enough  I 
assure  you. 

"After  a  few  moments  of  reflective  deliberation,  Skully 
said:— 

"  '  While  I  was  traveling  in  Africa,  several  centuries  ag-o, 
I  chanced  to  be  thrown  into  the  society  of  a  queer  old  Zulu 
priest — a  believer  in  fetiches  too  numerous  to  mention;  a  man 
who  believed  that  the  discordant  "plong-!  plong!"  of  the  "tom- 
tom "  and  the  wild,  weird  music  of  the  African  fiddle  with  one 
string-,  were  "fetich"  for  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  "voodoo" 
spells  and  pernicious  influences. 

"  '  With  the  characteristic  egotism  of  the  European,  I 
had  thought  but  little  of  the  intelligence  of  the  African  negro 
— especially  in  his  wild  state.  My  Zulu  friend  soon  corrected 
this  erroneous  belief,  by  demonstrating-  that  we  Caucasians 
were  far  behind  the  negro  savages  in  many  branches  of 
knowledg-e. 

"'Among-  other  interesting-  and  instructive  things,  he 
confided  to  me  a  crude  outline  of  a  method  that  his  remote 
ancestors  used  in  the  manufacture  of  diamonds.  He  also 
g-ave  me  my  first  definite  idea  of  the  way  in  which  the  precious 
bits  of  brilliant  beauty  were  originally  formed  in  Nature. 
Guided  by  the  hints  received  from  my  old  Zulu  friend,  I 
finally  formulated  a  logical  explanation  of  the  natural  process 
of  diamond  formation,  upon  which  I  based  my  own  improved 
method  of  manufacturing  the  g-ems — the  revival,  in  a  new  and 
scientific  form,  of  a  lost  art  as  old  as  the  original  negro  father, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  245 

Ham,  who  is  reputed  to  have  been  the  progenitor  of  the  ebon- 
hued  Africans. 

"  '  Diamonds  large  enough  to  pay  for  the  making,  my 
dear  doctor,  can  be  made  only  in  one  way — by  the  action  of 
heat  and  pressure  upon  water,  in  combination  with  liquid 
carbon.  '- 

"  The  skull  paused,  for  effect,  I  fancied,  while  I  began 
taking  notes  at  a  furious  rate.  Not  until  I  had  written  down 
the  skull's  first  proposition  did  its  absurdity  strike  me. 

"  '  Excuse  me,  Skully,'  I  said,  '  but  you  are  making  a  bad 
beginning.  How  in  the  world  can  you  crystallize  carbon  and 
water  by  heat  and  pressure?' 

"'Why,  doctor,  how  stupid  you  are!  How  do  vou 
moderns  liquefy  gases  and  crystallize  liquids?' 

"  'By  cold  and  pressure,'  I  replied. 

"  '  Heat  and  cold  are  essentially  the  same  thing,  are  they 
not,  and  within  certain  limits  produce  the  same  effect  upon 
matter?'  he  asked. 

"I  was  forced  to  admit  that  the  two  agents  did  differ  in 
degree,  rather  than  kind. 

"  '  Very  well,  then,  I  use  two  fluids,  both  with  an  inherent 
tendency  to  crystallization,  and  by  heat  and  pressure  I  con- 
dense the  liquid  carbon  into- — the  diamond.' 

"  '  But  what  becomes  of  the  water? '  I  asked. 

"'Why,  sir,'  replied  the  skull,  'I  thought  you  modern 
doctors  were  up  in  chemistry  and  physics!  Didn't  you  ever 
hear  of  the  water  of  crystallization?' 

"  '  Of  course,  I  know  all  about  that,'  I  answered,  '  even  a 
junior  student  understands  such  things.' 

"  'Then  you  should  know  that  nowhere  is  the  water  of 
crystallization  so  abundant  as  in  the  diamond.  Are  you 
not  familiar  with  the  term,  "diamond  of  the  first  water?" 
That  tells  the  story  plainly  enough.  The  fact  that  water 
was  an  important  factor  in  the  original  formation  of  the 
diamond,  was  well  known  to  the  ancient  Zulus  and  East 
Indians — it  was  from  them  that  the  term  descended.  Do  you 
grasp  the  idea?' 

"'Ye — yes,  I  believe  I  do,'  I  hesitatingly  replied,  'but, 
come  to  think  of  it,  friend  Skully,  there  is  no  liquid  carbon  in 


246  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

nature  now-a-days.  Where  did  you  get  the  stuff  ?  The 
nearest  approach  we  have  to  it  is  that  infernal,  foul-smelling 
bi-sulphide  of  carbon  that  we  use  in  the  laboratory — which  is 
a  mighty  poor  apology  for  it,I  can  tell  you.' 

"  'I  was  coming  to  that,  sir,'  said  my  bony  friend,  impa- 
tiently. The  original  supply  came  from  the  sun.  That  center 
of  all  activity  and  energy,  is  nothing  but  a  mass  of  semi-solid 
carbon  in  a  state  of  combustion.  It's  rays — 

"  'But,'  I  interposed,  'the  spectroscope — !' 

'"Oh,  confound  your  spectroscope!'  cried  the  skull. 
'  I'd  much  rather  peep  into  a  kaleidoscope  any  day !  It's  ten 
times  as  pretty,  and  a  blamed  sight  more  accurate  and  reli- 
able !  You  doctors  now-a-days  are  like  a  lot  of  children — you 
go  crazy  over  every  new  toy.  Now  in  my  day— 

"'Pardon  me,'  I  said,  'but  about  the  liquid  carbon  and 
the  sun?' 

"'Oh  yes,  where  was  I?  I  remember — I  was  speaking 
of  the  origin  of  liquid  carbon  in  nature: 

"'Well,  the  sun's  rays,  when  submitted  to  ultimate 
analysis,  are  composed  of  carbon  in  a  concentrated  yet  par- 
tially soluble  form.  As  the  original  vapor  that  surrounded 
the  globe,  gradually  condensed  and  collected  upon  its  surface 
during  the  process  of  cooling,  it  brought  down  with  it, 
molecules  of  carbon  in  a  state  of  semi-solution.  The  rela- 
tively high  specific  gravity  of  the  carbon,  served  to  sink  it  to 
the  bottom  of  the  universal  watery  envelope  that  finally 
covered  the  earth,  where,  under  the  pressure  of  the  wrater,  it 
formed  a  thin  layer  at  the  bottom  of  the  various  depressions 
in  the  earth's  surface.  Bye  and  bye,  volcanic  action  produced 
temporary  fissures  in  the  surface  of  the  globe.  Through 
these  gigantic  cracks,  water  rushed  in  tremendous  volume 
into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  carrying  with  it  the  liquid  carbon. 
The  intense  heat  converted  both  carbon  and  water  into  gases, 
the  rents  in  the  earth's  crust  suddenly  closed,  and  under  the 
combined  effects  of  heat,  the  pressure  afforded  by  the  shrink- 
ige  of  the  earth's  surface  and  the  expansive  force  of  the 
suddenly-formed  gases,  the  carbon  was  crystallized  into 
diamonds.  The  original  atmospheric  conditions  favoring  the 
formation  of  liquid  carbon,  have  never  since  recurred,  and 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  247 

the  precious  stuff  is  not  believed  to  be  found  in  nature  at  the 
present  time.  I  happen  to  know,  however,  that  it  does  exist 
at  the  bottom  of  the  deep  seas — I  have  often  asserted  its 
existence,  and,  while  I  cannot  prove  it,  no  one  has  thus  far 

successfullv  contradicted  me.' 

"  i 

"'But,'  I  said,  'how  is  all  this  going-  to  benefit  me,  if 
there  is  no  more  liquid  carbon  to  be  found?  Where  shall  I 
obtain  that  most  essential  feature  of  your  process  of  diamond 
making?' 

"'Manufacture  it,  you  silly  fellow!'  Skully  replied,  with 
a  pitying-  smile.  '  The  process  is  a  very  simple  one.  Take 
a  cut-glass  bowl — which  is  preferable  to  an  ordinary  glass 
vessel  on  account  of  its  superior  brilliancy — and  fill  it  two- 
thirds  full  of  aqua  volcana,  which  is  the  most  powerful 
known  absorbent  of  the  sun's  rays.' 

"'Yes,'  I  said  eagerly,  meanwhile  writing  away  in  my 
note  book  for  dear  life.— 

"  '  You  now  stand  the  bowl  in  the  sun  for  six  hours,  tak- 
ing care  to  get  the  benefit  of  the  meridian  rays.  You  then 
pour  the  fluid  carbon  into  glass-stoppered  bottles  and  set  it  in 
a  cool  place  until  you  are  ready  to  use  it.' 

"  'I'm  greatly  obliged  to  you,  Skully,  I'm  sure,'  I  said,  as 
I  gleefully  closed  my  note  book. 

"  'Pray,  don't  mention  it!'  he  replied, warmly. 

"Alas!  Why  did  I  not  ask  my  learned  friend  what  aqua 
volcance  was?  I  supposed  that  the  didactic  lecture  which  he 
gave  me,  was  like  all  other  scientific  lectures,  and  I  could  look 
up  all  the  big  words  afterwards! 

"Ah!  my  boy,  a  little  knowledge  is  at  least  a  disquieting 
thing. — 

"  'By  the  way,  Skully,'  I  said,  '  before  you  leave  the  sub- 
ject of  diamond  making,  I  should  like  to  ask  you  a  question. 
Why  are  diamonds  found  almost  altogether  in  certain  local- 
ities, such  as  India,  South  Africa  and  Brazil?' 

"  '  Oh,'  he  replied,  '  that  is  easily  explained ;  those  regions 
are  so  near  Hades,  you  know.  It  was  in  such  localities  that 
volcanic  action  in  prehistoric  times,  was  most  marked,  and 
consequently,  'twas  in  such  localities  that  the  heat  and  pres- 


248  OVER  THE  HOOKAH 

sure   elements  necessary   to   the   formation  of  the  diamond 
were  most  favorable.' 

"'Ah!'  I  exclaimed,  'the  intimate  relation  existing-  be- 
tween Hell  and  the  diamond,  explains  some  very  queer 
thing's!'  " 


"  'I  have  been  greatly  amused  of  recent  years,'  said  the 
skull,  '  by  the  conceit  of  some  of  your  modern  inventors. 
You  brag1  about  the  achievements  of  Edison,  as  though  he 
were  a  demigod.  He,  a  great  inventor?  Save  the  mark!  I 
mention  Edison,  merely  because  he  is  a  fair  sample  of  your 
up-to-date  inventors — I  have  no  especial  antipathy  toward 
him.' 

"'Well,'  I  retorted,  with  some  irritation,  '•conceit  does 
not  seem  to  be  a  modern  institution  altogether — unless,  of 
course,  you  can  show  that  yours  is  of  recent  acquirement.' 

"  '  Now,  doctor,'  replied  Skully,  '  must  I  include  repartee 
in  the  list  of  accomplishments,  which,  in  you,  are  chiefly  dis- 
tinguished by  their  absence?  Your  sarcastic  remark  was 
entirely  uncalled  for.  You  will  please  remember  sir,  that  I 
am  not  relating-  my  history  for  my  own  edification — alas!  it 
is  only  too  familiar  to  me — but  for  your  information  and 
entertainment.' 

"  'Pardon  me,  my  dear  friend, '  I  said,  'I  zv as  discourteous, 
I'll  admit.  But,  you  know,  you  have  g-iven  me  so  many  sur- 
prises this  evening1,  that  you  mustn't  mind  if  I  state  frankly, 
that  my  credulity  has  been  submitted  to  a  very  severe  strain. 
I  will  try  and  control  myself  better,however,  and  demonstrate 
my  hearty  appreciation  of  your  courtesy  and  talent,  by  the 
exhibition  of  a  little  more  tact  and  self-control.' 

'"If  you  will  stop  to  consider  for  a  moment,'  the  skull 
continued,  'you  will  agree  with  me  in  the  view  that  modern 
inventors  are  greatly  over-rated.  What  contributions  have 
they  made  to  the  solution  of  the  problem  of  perpetual  motion? 
Where  are  your  flying1  machines?  Where  are  your — 

"  I  sprang-  to  my  feet  in  spite  of  myself. 

"'And  have  you  ever  solved  the  problem  of  perpetual 
motion,  or  constructed  a  satisfactory  and  practical  flying 
machine?'  I  asked. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  249 

"  '  Why,  doctor,  you  seem  astonished.  I  will  inform  you, 
sir,  that  I  not  only  succeeded  in  accomplishing-  those  feats — 
which  you  seem  to  think  quite  remarkable — but  they  were 
among-  the  simplest  problems  I  ever  undertook  to  solve. 
As  you  seem  so  surprised,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  strain  your 
credulity  without  some  attempt  at  explanatory  detail,  I  will 
take  the  liberty  of  expatiating1  upon  them. — 

"  '  Like  many  other  things  that  are  now-a-days  considered 
wonderful,  perpetual  motion  was  well  known  to  the  ancients. 
The  Hindees  had  at  least  a  theoretical  knowledg-e  of  the  sub- 
ject, several  thousand  years  ag-o,  as  you  will  find  by  reading- 
some  of  their  old  manuscripts.' 

"  '  But  I  do  not  read  Sanskrit,'  I  said. 

"  'No?  You  surprise  me,  sir ! — still,  the  modern  doctor  is 
so  superficial  and— 

"  '  You  were  saying-  that  the  ancient  Hindees  knew  all 
about  perpetual  motion,'  I  interrupted,  not  caring-  to  discuss 
the  weaknesses  of  modern  medicine  with  my  friend  the  skull. 

"'Oh,  yes,  and  the  Parsees  were  still  more  familiar 
with  it  in  ancient  times.  It  is  probable  that  civilization  was 
more  advanced  among-  the  ancient  Parsees  than  modern 
historians  believe.  It  is  my  own  opinion  that  their  fire  wor- 
ship, and  especially  their  profound  veneration  for  the  sun, 
was  based  upon  an  appreciation  of  the  practical  principles  of 
physics,  chemistry  and  electricity  involved  in  the  develop- 
ment of  perpetual  motion.  The  Parsee  of  the  olden  time  was 
a  practical  fellow,  and  worshipped  the  thing  that  was  most 
useful  to  him  here  on  earth.  He  considered  his  future  state 
as  a  religious  luxury — a  useful  principle  was  really  the 
backbone  of  his  faith. 

"  'The  sun,  as  you  are  well  aware,  is  the  source  of  all  the 
heat,  life,  and  energy  with  which  this  little  sphere  of  ours  is 
endowed.  Scientists  were  a  long-  time  in  discovering-  this 
fundamental  truth — with  which  ancient  so-called  "heathen  " 
philosophers  were  so  familiar. 

"  '  The  source  of  all  energy  must  be  the  source  of  all 
motion,  and  as  you  can  readily  understand,  all  that  was 
necessary  to  the  solution  of  the  problem  of  perpetual  motion, 
was  to  so  utilize  the  store  of  energy  eternally  present  in  the 


250  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

sun,  as  to  secure  a  constant  supply  of  it  at  some  given  point 
upon  the  earth's  surface.  To  accomplish  this,  I  followed  a 
very  simple  procedure.— 

"'Having-  satisfied  myself  that  heat,  light,  motion  and 
electricity  were  co-related  and  inter-convertible — a  fact  which 
later  scientists  finally  accepted — I  determined  to  construct  a 
machine  that  should  not  only  combine  these  different  yet 
similar  agents,  but  gather  them  from  the  very  fountain-head 
of  life  itself — the  sun. 

"'Acting  upon  this  idea,  I  constructed  some  powerful 
copper-coil-wrapped  magnets,  and  exposed  them  to  the  rays 
of  the  sun.  Realizing  that  much  light  and  heat  was  lost 
because  of  the  relatively  small  area  upon  which  the  sun's  rays 
fell,  I  arranged  a  series  of  reflectors  and  condensers  that 
enabled  me  to  obtain  the  heat  and  light  in  large  quantity — not 
intensity,  mind  you,  for  the  magnets  would  have  melted.  I 
succeeded  in  this  way  in  getting  a  degree  of  illumination  so 
powerful,  that  it  was  possible  to  project  the  rays  through 
solid  and  apparently  hopelessly  opaque  substances.  I  might 
remark,  incidentally,  that  the  principle  which  I  discovered 
was  utilized  in  medicine  and  surgery  for  diagnostic  purposes. 
With  my  light,  it  was  possible  to  so  illuminate  the  human 
body  that  it  was  perfectly  diaphanous  at  the  point  of  contact 
of  the  rays.  The  way  in  which  the  coffin  nails  showed  up  in 
the  cirrhotic  liver,  was  a  marvel  to  the  old  timers.* 

"' I  understand  that  some  German  savant  has  recently 
been  playing  with  a  toy  which  he  claims  has  properties  similar 
to  my  invention,  but  I  assure  you  it  will  be  a  signal  failure 
— he  has  no  mechanism  by  which  the  distance  of  projection 
of  the  rays  can  be  either  measured  or  controlled.  As  a 
consequence  of  this  defect,  the  rays  from  his  apparatus 
will  so  penetrate  the  very  objects  he  desires  to  discover, 
that  the  body  will  be  a  mass  of  homogeneous  transparency — 
objects  beyond  the  body  may  be  seen,  but  objects  within  it,. 
never.' 

"I  was  about  to  argue  this  point  with  my  somewhat  ped- 
antic and  monumentally  conceited  friend,  but  he  went  on  with 

*  Curiously  enough,  Skully's  remarks  do  not  seem  so  wildly  absurd  as  at  the  time 
the  above  was  written.— AUTHOR. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  251 

his  rhodomontade  so  rapidly  that  the  opportunity  did  not 
present  itself.  This  was  just  as  well, perhaps,  for  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  fallacy  of  his  criticism  of  the  Roentgen  ray,  might 
have  wounded  his  vanity,  besides,  Skully  probably  knew 
nothing-  about  bullets  and  such  thing's.  I  therefore  held  my 
peace  and  he  continued  his  remarkable  narrative. — * 

" '  My  invention  was  also  utilized  by  the  police.  I  con- 
structed a  dark  lantern,  which,  when  suddenly  flashed  upon 
a  malefactor,  enabled  the  officer  to  read  a  culprit's  inmost 
thoughts.  It  also  afforded  a  delicate  method  for  searching 
the  clothing  for  concealed  property,  incriminating  evidence 
and  deadly  weapons.  This  property  of  the  machine  was 
afterward  monopolized  by  the  revenue  service — for- the  es- 
pecial benefit  of  lady  smugglers. 

"'The  energy  which  I  condensed  in  my  magnets,  so 
intensified  their  quality  of  induction,  that  an  enormous 
quantity  of  latent  electricity  was  stored  up  in  the  multitud- 
inous coils  of  the  apparatus — indeed,  so  great  was  the  quantity 
that  it  was  practically  inexhaustible  after  a  single  exposure, 
although,  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  I  used  to  expose  the 
thermo-electric  magneto-condensers  to  the  sun's  rays  about 
twice  a  month. 

"  'All  that  was  necessary  to  utilize  the  power  of  the 
machine,  was  an  arrangement  of  smooth,  wire-bearing  copper 
plates,  which  were  placed  at  convenient  distances  around  the 
apparatus.  By  a  series  of  small  reflectors,  the  electrical 
energy  was  made  to  impinge  in  the  desired  quantity,  directly 
upon  the  plates  at  the  ends  of  the  distributing  wires. 

"  'By  a  special  arrangement  of  the  receiving  plates,  and 
a  duplication  of  wires,  our  patrons — I  started  a  company  you 
know — could  be  supplied  with  heat,  light,  power,  or  plain 
electricity.' 

"  '  Yes,  but  how  about  the  perpetual  motion?'  I  asked. 

"  'Well,  you  see,  our  contracts  \vith  subscribers  did  not 
call  for  that — we  reserved  the  right  to  cut  off  their  supply 
whenever  their  remittances  were  in  default.  As  for  the 

*  This  qualification  was  necessitated  by  the  discovery  of  the  "  X  ray,"  nearly  two 
months  after  the  skull's  claims  were  set  forth.  The  skull's  "ridiculous  "  rhodomontade 
was  presented  to  several  eminent  gentlemen  in  the  Chicago  profession  at  that  time.  I 
had  in  mind  the  modern  experiments  in  "  electro-gastroscopy." — AUTHOR. 


252  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

principle  of  perpetual  motion,  we  kept  that  in  operation  and 
on  exhibition,  at  the  central  source  of  supply.  It  consisted 
of  an  immense  vibrator,  something  like  that  little  buzzer  on 
the  modern  battery.' 

"  *  You  mean  the  Faradic  rheotome, '  I  suggested. 

"'Yes,  I  suppose  I  do,  though  I'm  somewhat  rusty  on 
electrical  nomenclature,'  replied  the  skull. 

"  '  Well,  Skully,'  I  said,  '  your  plan  is  certainly  reasonable 
— which  is  more  than  I  can  say  of  my  gas  and  coal  bills — and 
I  shall  take  it  into  serious  consideration.  I  may  conclude  to 
form  a  stock  company,  which,  if  you  will  consent  to  accept  its 
presidency,  will,  I  am  sure,  surpass  any  other  soulless  cor- 
poration on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Personally,  I  shall  be  glad 
to  throw  my  own  gas  meter  into  the  street — it's  a  fast  little 
creature  anyhow,  and  unfit  for  association  with  modest,  refined 
people.  I  might  remark  in  passing,  my  dear  friend,  that  if 
your  scheme  for  perpetual  motion  surpasses  my  gas  meter, 
the  problem  is  solved  beyond  peradventure  of  doubt.' 

"  'It  may  be  somewhat  hazardous  to  claim  so  much  for 
my  machine,  doctor,  but  I  really  feel  confident  it  will 
even  bear  comparison  with  your  gas  meter.  You  see,  my 
apparatus  has  this  advantage;  it  is  self  regenerating,  and 
when  not  in  use,  is  storing  up  energy,  without  expense,  while 
your  gas  meter,  though  gaining  ground  all  the  time,  is  never- 
theless losing  its  benefits  to  the  consumer,  even  when  the 
supply  is  not  in  use.' 

"  'Skully,'  I  cried,  'you  have  a  great  head  for  mechanics 
and  things!' 

"The  skull  bowed,  with  the  prettiest  pretense  of  blush- 
ing confusion  imaginable. 

"  'By  the  way,  Skully,'  I  said,  'a  question  occurs  to  me. 
Your  machine  must  wear  out  in  time.  What  then  becomes 
of  the  "  perpetual  "  feature  of  the  motion  it  supplies  ? ' 

"  'You  silly  fellow!'  exclaimed  the  skull,  'of  course  the 
machine  wears  out,  but  that  doesn't  affect  the  principle  in  the 
least!  Any  interruption  is  then  the  fault  of  the  machine.  I 
did  not  say  that  I  had  invented  an  indestructible,  eternally- 
lasting  machine — I  simply  claimed  to  have  solved  the  problem 
of  perpetual  motion.  Don't  you  understand  ? ' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  253 

44  'Um — ah — I  think  I  do,'  I  replied,  with  a  vague  impres- 
sion that  my  friend  the  skull  had  evaded  the  issue." 


"'Now,  as  to  flying-  machines,'  said  the  skull,  blandly, 
'they  are  mere  child's  play.' 

"  '  Yes,  so  I  have  always  regarded  them,'  I  replied. 

"  Skully  glanced  at  me  sharply,  and  said — 

"  'I  hardly  think  you  caught  my  meaning,  sir — I  meant 
that  their  construction  is  a  matter  easy  of  accomplishment.' 

'"Ah,  indeed!'  I  answered,  'I  evidently  did  not  quite 
grasp  the  idea  your  expression  was  intended  to  convey.  So, 
flying  machines  are  easy  to  construct,  are  they?  How  plen- 
tiful they  must  have  been  in  your  day!' 

"  '  Plentiful! — I  should  say  they  were!'  replied  the  skull. 
'They  were  as  numerous  and  popular  as  are  bicycles  in  this 
effete  age.  Everybody  had  his  owrn  machine,  and  a  fellow 
\vas  not  considered  high-toned  and  in  the  swim  unless  he 
owned  one.' 

"  'How  interesting!'  I  said.  'You  seem  to  consider  that 
the  invention  of  a  practical  flying  machine  was  a  trifling  thing, 
but  I  assure  you  that  boundless  fame  and  fortune  await  the 
man  who  shall  invent  one  in  this  day  and  generation.  It  is  a 
very  difficult  matter  to  obtain  a  material  for  their  construc- 
tion that  combines  lightness  and  strength  in  the  necessary 
proportions.  Of  what  did  you  make  your  machine?' 

"  'We  made  them  of  a  high  metal — gold,'  replied  Skully, 
suavely. 

"'Of  gold!'  I  exclaimed;  'why,  the  specific  gravity  of 
gold  is'- 

"  '  Your  scientific  knowledge  blinds  you  to  some  practical 
facts,'  said  the  skull,  hastily  interrupting.  'There's  nothing 
that  flies  like  gold.  Now,  if  you  will  observe  the  United 
States  treasury  for  a  while  '- 

"'That  will  do,  Skully,  that  will  do!'  I  interposed,  'I 
may  be  spoiling  a  good  thing,  but  it  is  high  time  I  called  your 
attention  to  the  fact  that  you,  yourself,  are  much  wiser  than 
witty.  It  is  hardly  necessary  for  you  to  expatiate  further 
upon  the  construction  of  flying  machines.  You,  of  course, 


254 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


have  had  considerable  experience  with  them  and  are  familiar 
with  the  technique  of   their  operation  and  management. — 


A    GONDOLA    OF    THE    AIR. 


"  'Oh,  yes,'  replied  the  skull;  'I  used  one  in  making-  my 
calls,  both  professional  and  social.     You  cannot  imagine  how 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  255 

convenient  it  was,  when  I  desired  to  call  upon  my  lady  fair,  to 
get  into  my  aerial  coupe  and  fly  to  her,  as  'twere  on  wing's  of 
love!' 

"  '  There,  there,  that  will  do,  Skully !  Just  limit  yourself 
to  practical  matters  for  the  present,'  I  said,  fearing-  lest  the 
accuracy  of  my  friend's  narrative  might  be  disturbed  by  his 
sentimental  recollections — I  had  not  forgotten  his  emotional 
excitement  when  I  alluded  to  matrimony. 

"With  a  look  of  injured  pride,  he  resumed — 

"'I  have  often  wondered  how  folks  get  along  without 
flying  machines  now-a-days.  Suppose,  for  example,  that  on 
a  rainy,  muddy  night,  you  wish  to  take  your  wife  to  a 
reception.  You  slop  back  and  forth  to  your  carriage  ;  your 
wife  gets  her  feathers  wet  and  her  skirts  bedraggled;  your 
patent  leathers  are  covered  with  mud,  and  your  temper 
aroused  to  an  indecent  pitch — where's  the  comfort  in  that? 
I  presume  that,  like  most  men,  you  give  vent  to  your  emotions 
by  quarreling  with  your  wife,  all  the  way  to  and  from  the 
entertainment,'  and  the  skull  looked  at  me  rather  quizzically. 

"  'Now7,  in  my  day,  we  did  things  differently.  Cordelia 
waited  at  the  attic  window  until  her  swain's  air-ship  arrived, 
stepped  into  it  without  her  dear  little  foot  ever  touching  the 
ground,  and  away  they  went.' 

"  '  Yes,  but  supposing  that,  as  you  suggested,  it  was  not 
only  muddy,  but  actually  raining?'  I  asked. 

'"Oh,  that  necessitated  a  little  different  arrangement/ 
said  Skully.  Every  house  had  an  elevator  for  use  on  rainy 
days.  The  flying  machines  used  to  stop  at  the  top  of  the 
elevators,  and  make  their  aerial  voyages  above  the  clouds. 
They  wrere  a  great  convenience,  I  assure  you,  my  dear  doctor. 
It  was  a  pleasant  reflection  when  one  had  purchased  tickets 
to  the  theatre,  to  know  that  his  sweetheart  need  not  be  dis- 
appointed, because  of  a  nasty,  miserable  rainstorm.' 

"  '  Why,  did  you  have  theatres  in  your  time?  '  I  inquired. 

"  '  Yes  indeed,'  replied  Skully,  '  and  by  the  way,  theatres 
were  theatres  in  those  days  I  can  tell  you.' 

"  '  I  am  glad  to  learn  that,'  I  said ;  '  theatres  are  theatres 
only  on  week  days  in  this  town.  They  are  churches  on 
Sunday.  It  must  have  been  nice  to  know  just  where  to  place 


256  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

them.  You  probably  drew  the  lines  more  closely  than  we  do. 
Why,  if  you  should  happen  to  miscalculate  and  enter  one  of 
our  theatres  at  the  wrong-  time,  you'd  never  know  what  kind 
of  a  performance  you  had  found.  The  acting1  is  good  in  any 
case,  but  a  fellow  gets,  confused  you  know.  Texts,  lectures, 
dramatic  effects  and  stage  reading  are  so  jumbled  together 
now-a-days,  that  I  am  often  puzzled  to  know  just  where  I  am.' 

"'Poor  fellow!'  said  the  skull,  sympathizingly,  'that 
explains  why  you  sleep  so  late  on  Sunday  mornings!— 

"'But  you  didn't  quite  grasp  my  meaning  about  the 
theatres  of  my  time.  What  I  meant  was,  that  our  plays 
amounted  to  something.  Our  histrionic  artists  were  realists, 
I  assure  you.  Now,  at  the  present  time,  the  shallow  artifices 
and  transparent  pretense  of  your  actors  is  very  disconcerting. 
Too  much  is  expected  of  the  imagination,  when  one  is  asked 
to  enjoy  the  counterfeit  presentment  of  human  affairs  on  the 
stage.  Why,  do  you  know,  doctor?  We  actually  had  real 
marriages  and  real  deaths  on  the  stage!' 

"  'You  astonish  me,  sir!'  I  said.  'Your  story  is  but  little 
short  of  marvellous,  and  had  I  not  the  greatest  confidence  in 
your  veracity  I  could  not  accept  your  statements — even  cum 
grano  sails.  How  on  earth  did  you  manage  to  be  so  realistic 
in  your  dramatic  effects?' 

"'Easily  enough,  my  friend',  easily  enough,'  replied 
Skully — rather  patronizingly,  I  thought.  'Your  modern 
theatrical  manager,  with  all  his  shrewdness,  does  not  utilize 
the  material  he  has  at  hand.  He  is  adept  enough  in  convinc- 
ing the  public  that  he  has  something  of  value,  by  trickery, 
but  he  allows  his  most  brilliant  opportunities  for  the  pre- 
sentation of  realism  to  escape  him. 

"  'Your  modern  players  are  marrying  and  giving  them- 
selves away — in  marriage — getting  divorced,  and  remarrying 
all  the  time — off  the  stage.  Now,  we  ordered  things  differ- 
ently— we  utilized  all  that  raw  material,  and  made  the  matri- 
monial machine  and  divorce  mill  work,  not  behind  the  scenes, 
but  on  the  stage  in  plain  sight.  And  we  never  ran  short  of 
material. 

"'How  ingenious!'  I  cried.  'But  could  you  really  get 
people  to  so  time  themselves  as  to  die  upon  the  stage?' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  257 

"'No,  not  exactly,'  replied  Skully.  'Actors  are  always 
marrying',  while  they  seldom  die,  and  when  they  do  it  is  not 
like  their  marriages — there  are  no  encores.  We  couldn't 
have  secured  material  enough  in  that  way,  and  besides,  sick 
people  can't  act.  They  must  be  strong-  and  hearty  up  to  a 
certain  point — until  their  stage  time  comes,  you  know.  But 
we  utilized  healthy  actors — people  who  didn't  feel  as  bad  as 
they  acted.' 

"  'So, you  had  real  deaths  on  the  stage?  What  a  pity  we 
couldn't  have  such  things  nowadays!  We  have  so  many 
players  whom  we  might  just  as  well  utilize  for  dying  scenes. 
But  you  must  have  used  up  your  stock  of  material  very  fast, 
especially  if  you  allowed  your  really  first-class  actors  to  die. 
Battle  scenes  must  have  been  easy  to  arrange — two-dollar 
"  supes  "  were  probably  plentiful — but  stars  must  have  been 
scarce,  if  your  times  were  anything  like  the  present.' 

"Skully  smiled  indulgently  as  he  answered — 

"  '  The  stage  was  indebted  to  me,  sir,  for  the  wonderful 
discovery  which  enabled  the  tragedies  of  that  time,  to  assume 
a  reality  never  before  attained.  Ten  drops  of  my  wronderful 
elixir  of  life  poured  dowrn  a  dead  actor's  throat,  revived  him 
almost  instantly.' 

'"Then  yon  invented  an  elixir  of  life,  eh?'  Tasked.  4I 
had  supposed  that  a  distinguished  French  savant,  recently 
deceased,  was  the  pioneer  in  that  particular  field.' 

"  '  I  presume  you  mean  the  late  Brown  Sequard,'  said  the 
skull.  '  Poor  devil! — he  meant  well,  but  he  was  a  victim  of  a 
delusion.  The  frolicsome  glee  of  the  little  lambkin  gambolling 
away  his  innocent,  almost  ephemeral  life  on  the  sunny  slopes 
of  la  belle  France,  was  a  hollow  mockery  and  a  snare.  Why 
didn't  Se'quard  think  of  the  tortoise?' — and  my  bony  philos- 
opher sighed,  as  though  in  sympathy  with  the  motive,  even 
though  contemptuous  of  the  results,  of  the  lamented  ornament 
to  medical  science. 

"  '  Your  elixir  z'itce  must  indeed  have  been  wonderful,'  I 
said,  'and  I  hope  I  may  prevail  upon  you  to  give  me  its 
formula — some  day  when  we  have  leisure  to  enter  into  the 
mysteries  of  its  composition  and  manufacture  with  sufficient 
thoroughness.' 


258 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


'"Ah!  my  dear  doctor,  you  know  not  what  you  ask!' 
exclaimed  my  interesting-  friend.  '  The  ancient  fakir, who, 
in  the  midst  of  the  self-imposed  solitude  of  his  weird  and 
gloomy  cave  among-  those  sacred  mountains  where  rises  the 
holy  Ganges,  imparted  the  secret  of  its  manufacture  to  me, 
exacted  a  solemn,  terrible  and  inviolable  oath,  that  I  would 

never  reveal 
it  to  mortal 
man! 


A    FAKIR    OF   THE   OLDEN    TIME. 


"  'The  venerable  fakir  is  long  since  dead,  and  wrapped 
in  the  holy  embrace  of  Brahma.  But  perchance  he  might 
even  yet,  invoke  the  wrath  of  the  mighty  gods,  Siva  and 
Durga,  upon  the  defenseless  and  hairless  head  of  yours 
truly.  I  do  not  fancy  my  soul  being  placed  under  a  jugger- 
naut. Doctor,  I  am  not  coy,  but  conservative.  Even  though 
I  dared  to  give  you  the  formula,  I  should  be  compelled  to 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


259 


write  it  out  for  you,  and  when  written  'twould  be  useless. 
Those  ancient  hieroglyphs  which  I  found  on  the  walls  of  the 
sacred  temple  of  Vishnu  at  the  holy  city  of  Benares,  would 
be  unintelligible  to  you,  and  besides,  you  say  you  do  not  read 
Sanskrit. ' 

'"Did  I  under- 
stand you  to  say  that 
you  got  the  secret 
from  a  fakir?'  I  in- 
quired, being  not  in 
the  least  awestrick- 
en  by  the  origin  of 
the  wonderful  elixir. 

"  '  Yes,  from  an 
Indian  fakir,'  he  re- 
plied. 

'"Well  then,  old 
fellow,  I  guess  you 
need  not  trouble 
yourself  to  give  me 
the  formula.  I  don't 
believe  that  fakirs 
have  changed  much 
in  the  last  few  hun- 
dred years.  We  have 
some  that  are  prac- 
ticing medicine  at 
the  present  time, 
who  are  great  on 
elixirs  and  such 
things.  Now,  in 
Washington,  for  in- 
stance— 

"Skully  made  a 
most  profound  and  reverential  salaam,  and  whispered  in  ter- 
rified accents — 

"  '  For  the  love  of  Buddha,  mention  not  that  awful  name! 
He  is  the  king  of  all  the  fakirs,  and  thou  shalt  not  take  his 
name  in  vain!  Not  on  your — well,  not  on  your  life!  My 


YE    MODERN    FAKIR. 


260  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

elixir,  'tis  true,  was  the  secret,  magic  drop  of  the  ancient 
king's  of  Egypt;  it  was  the  source  of  the  ancient  miracles 
of  raising  the  dead,  but  it  must  not  be  mentioned  in  the 
same  breath,  with  the  wonderful  discoveries  of  that  mighty 
and  omniscient  king  who  sitteth  on  his  royal  throne  in 
Washington!' 

"It  was  decidedly  my  turn  to  be  patronizing: 

"  '  Oh,  well, '  I  said,  sympathizingly,  k  all  is  not  yet  lost.  I, 
too,  have  a  secret,  and  as  you  have  been  so  kind  as  to  give  me 
so  much  valuable  information,  I  will  give  you  the  lost  arcana — 
the  secret  of  the  royal  elixir.  Give  me  your  ear — no,  I  mean 
your  aural  aperture.  '- 

"As  he  leaned  toward  me  I  whispered  the  magic  word — 

"  '  Nitro-glycerin ! ' 

"  '  Well,  I'll— be— blowed ! '  cried  the  skull." 


"  '  There's  one  thing  in  medicine  that  has  somewhat  sur- 
prised me,  Skully,'  I  said.  '  We  have  as  yet  no  accurate  test 
for  death.  We  modern  doctors  have  often  entertained  the 
horrible  suspicion  that  burial  alive  is  not  so  uncommon  as 
some  suppose.  Our  patients  even,  are  often  tormented  with 
the  dread  of  that  horrible  fate.  Now,  there  is  one  old  lady 
among  my  patients  who  worries  me  almost  to  the  verge  of 
distraction,  by  her  fears  of  a  living  burial.  When  she  drives 
me  into  a  corner,  and  asks  me  whether  I  have  any  infallible 
test  to  prove  that  life  no  longer  exists  in  supposedly  dead 
people,  I  have  hard  work  to  hold  my  own  in  the  discussion. 
As  you  have  practiced  medicine,  possibly  you  can  enlighten 
me.' 

"I  fancied  the  skull  had  a  somewhat  sarcastic  gleam  in 
his  ball-less  orbits  as  he  replied — 

"  '  You  are  giving  yourself  a  great  deal  of  unnecessary 
worry,  my  dear  friend.  You  are  perfectly  safe  in  assuring 
the  poor  old  lady  that  your  patients  are  never  buried  alive.  I 
am  sure  that  you  are  quite  as  expert  as  was  I,  in  my  day,  and 
I  will  wager  anything  you  like,  that  such  an  accident  never 
happened  in  my  practice.  You  mustn't  take  things  so  seri- 
ously to  heart,  doctor.  Be  calm  and  placid  like  myself,  and 
you'll  live  longer  and  be  much  happier.  Of  course,  I  cannot 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  261 

take  life  as  easy — well,  as  easy  as  I  did  when  I  was  a  doctor, 
but  I  get  along-  fairly  well. ' 

"And  my  bony  confrere  never  cracked  a  smile.  So  seri- 
ous did  he  look,  that  I  did  not  dare  ask  him  what  he  meant, 
though  I  was  wondering  all  the  while  what  the  deuce  he  did 
mean." 


"  '  I  suppose  that  your  inventive  genius  was  very  valuable 
to  you,  and  also  to  the  profession,'  I  said,  after  I  had  recov- 
ered from  the  mental  haziness  into  which  Skully's  last 
remarks  had  thrown  me. 

"'You  may  well  believe  they  were  valuable,  my  dear 
doctor.  It  would  take  entirely  too  long  to  tell  you  all  of  the 
wonderful  additions  I  made  to  medical  and  surgical  science. 
I  assure  you,however,  that  some  of  your  so-called  "advanced" 
notions  of  the  treatment  of  disease  are  really  the  legitimate 
offspring  of  my  own  prodigious  brain. 

"  '  Take,  for  instance,  the  modern  treatment  of  tubercu- 
losis. Why,  sir,  I  used  to  curette  the  lungs  and  pack  the 
diseased  cavities  with  antiseptic  gauze  three  hundred  years 
ago!  And  I  did  not  open  the  chest  either;  I  operated  via  the 
trachea  and  bronchial  tubes!' 

"'Oh,  see  here,  Skully!'  I  exclaimed,  impatiently,  'you 
are  going  too  far ! ' 

"  'Am  I,  indeed?'  he  retorted.  'Let  me  ask  you  a  few 
questions,  sir: 

"  'Is  curetting  and  packing  tuberculous  cavities  good 
treatment?' 

"'It  is, 'I  replied. 

"  'And  do  you  believe  in  evolution?' 

"  '  I  do,  most  certainly.' 

"  '  Very  well,  then.  What  is  there  inconsistent,  chimer- 
ical, or  illogical  about  my  method?  Do  you  know  anything 
about  the  capacity  of  the  human  trachea  and  bronchi  in  those 
days,  or  any  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  people  of  my  clientele?"1 

"  I  was  forced  to  admit  that  I  did  not. 

"  '  Then,'  said  the  skull,  'as  you  are  not  in  a  position  to 
criticise,  you  had  best  reserve  your  discussion  of  my  method 
until  you  have  secured  some  data  upon  the  subject.  Pray  do 


262  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

not  forget,  sir,  that  I  am  a  "  Has-been  " — and  a  very  remote 
one  at  that,' 

"'Well,'  I  said,  'you  are  frank  and  honest,  to  say  the 
least,  which  is  more  than  I  can  say  of  some  of  our  modern 
"  Has-beens. "  They  claim  fully  as  much  skill  and  knowledg-e 
as  you  do,  but  without  equal  reason.  But  you  are  unlike 
them  in  one  particular  that  is  even  more  important.  You 
have  been  dead  for  many  years  and  know  it — indeed,  you 
honestly  confess  it.  For  this,  I  commend  and  respect  you. 
How  different  is  the  profession  of  to-day!  Why,  I  know 
some  fellows  who  have  been  dead  for  years,  and  years, 
and  either  do  not  know  it,  or,  what  is  worse,  will  not 
acknowledge  it!' 

"'And  do  they  show  evidences  of  death  at  the  top, 
like  me?' 

"'They  do,' I  replied. 

"  'And  is  it  from  those  "Has-been  "  fellows,  who  won't 
"  fess  up, "  that  the  modern  term  "  dead  head  "  is  derived  ? ' 

"'No,  I  believe  not,'  I  answered,  laughing  in  spite  of 
myself,  'There's  another  word  that  is  now  quite  generally 
used — we  call  them  "  Nestors." 

"'Why,  we  used  that  term,  too,'  replied  the  skull,  'but 
in  my  day  it  meant  a  wise  man.  I  believe  Homer  sang  about 
a  sage  of  that  name  long  before  my  second  advent.' 

"'Well,'  I  retorted,  'you  seem  to  have  done  a  great 
many  things  better  in  your  day  than  we  moderns  do.  You 
complained  of  our  careless  use  of  the  old  and  honorable  title 
of  "doctor,"  but  if  you  could  see  some  of  the  "Has-beens"  of 
science  and  letters  to  whom  we  apply  the  term  "Nestor," 
your  heart —  I  mean  your  head,  would  break.'  " 


"  'Speaking  of  the  treatment  of  tuberculosis  of  the  lungs, ' 
I  remarked,  'we  have  a  brand-new  treatment  that  bids  fair 
to  become  quite  popular.' 

"'Popular?  Yes,  and  it's  likely  to  prove  successful, 
too,  for,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  you  refer  to  the  treatment  by 
injection  of  immunized  horse  serum,  or  something  like  that. 
If  my  memory  serves  me  correctly,  I  heard  you  discussing 
the  method  with  Dr.  M—  -  the  other  evening.  Well,  doctor, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  263 

I  regret  to  say  that  I  must  also  prick  that  bubble — so  far  as 
its  originality  is  concerned.  Paquin  is  a  bright  fellow 
enough,  and  the  treatment  is  likely  to  prove  a  success,  even 
in  his  hands,  but  it's  a  revival  of  an  old  method  of  mine,  just 
the  same.' 

"  'Well,  sir,'  I  exclaimed,  'go  right  on  with  your  monop- 
olizing! You'll  claim  to  have  built  Noah's  ark  next.' 

•'  'Oh,  no,'  he  replied,  'my  recollection  does  not  go  back 

quite  so  far  as  that.  You'll  have  to  ask  your  friend,  Dr.  K , 

about  the  ark.' 

"  'And  what  does  K—  -  know  about  it?' 

"'Why,  don't — you  —  know?'  asked  Skully,  amazedly, 
'K—  -  was  there.  You  might  know  that  from  the  large 
assortment  of  ancient,  mummified  dates  he  carries  about  with 
him.' 

"  '  How  the  deuce  do  you  know  K , anyhow?'  I  asked, 

with  some  impatience,  '  he's  no  Buddhist.' 

"  'True,  he's  no  Buddhist — nobody  knows  just  -what  he 
is  from  that  standpoint,  so  far  as  I  know,  but  if  you  will 
listen  carefully  to  his  scientific  and  historical  data,  you'll  find 
evidence  enough  to  prove  that  he,  too,  belongs  to  the  "Second- 
Tim  e-on-Earth  "  club' — and  Skully  bowed  in  respect  for  that 
wonderful  man  whose  data  extend  so  far  back  into  the  dim 
and  musty  past,  that  the  memory  of  none  of  the  "  immortals" 
of  the  Academy  e'er  runneth  to  the  contrary.* 

'"But,  with  reference  to  the  horse-serum  treatment  of 
pulmonary  tuberculosis,'  I  said,  'you  were  saying — 

"  'Regarding  the  horse-serum  treatment,  I  was  about  to 
remark,  that  it  is  to  be  hoped  the  doctors  of  to-day  will  have 
better  luck  with  the  method  than  I  did.' 

"  '  Was  it,  then,  unsuccessful  in  your  hands?'  I  asked. 

"  '  On  the  contrary,  it  was  successful  beyond  my  wildest 
dreams — in  fact,  it  was  too  successful,  and  that  proved  to  be 
the  chief  objection  to  it.' 


*I  ask  the  indulgence  of  those  readers  who  have  never  attended  the  sessions 
of  the  Chicago  Academy  of  Medicine.  To  the  initiated,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to 
introduce  the  authority  to  whom  the  skull  referred  Doctor  Weymouth.  Be  it 

remarked  that  a  sincere  and  well  deserved  compliment  to  Dr.  K is  really  implied 

by  the  dialogue  between   Slnilly  and  the   story-teller.     Should  Dr.  K resent  the 

personality  indulged  in,  he  must  remember  that  even  a  walking  encyclopedia  cannot 
hope  to  escape  the  vengeance  of  those  whom  he  has  routed  from  their  fortresses  of 
self-conceit.  I  believe  that  K — -  will  acknowledge  himself  treed — for  once. — AUTHOR. 


264  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  Why,  how  could  that  be  ?  You  must  have  been  a  queer 
sort  of  a  doctor,'  said  I.  'We  are  only  too  well  pleased,  in 
these  modern  days, to  find  remedies  for  disease  that  will  stand 
the  test  of  time  and  experience.' 

'"So  it  was  with  us,  my  dear  doctor,'  replied  Skully,  with 
a  queer,  satirical  expression  illuminating'  his  face,  and  finally 
ending-  in  a  curious  wrinkling-  of  the  bony  plates  about  his 
temporal  reg-ions.  '  The  trouble  was  not  with  my  remedy,  but 
with  my  selection  of  cases,  and  orig-inal  modifications  of  the 
method.' 

"'I  made  the  interesting-  discovery,  that  the  personal 
characteristics  of  the  animal  from  whom  the  curative  serum 


AN    ALIENATOR    OF   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

was  taken,  seriously  modified  the  result  in  the  subject  inocu- 
lated. I  did  not  discover  this  fact,  however,  until  I  had  made 
several  mistakes,  that  would  have  been  ludicrous,  had  they 
not  been  so  serious. 

"  'When  I  first  beg-an  the  serum  treatment,  I  was  under 
the  impression  that  any  animal  related  to  the  equine  species 
would  answer  as  the  donor  of  the  serum.  I  even  went  so  far 
as  to  believe  that  the  mule — that  sad-eyed,  pensive,  half- 
brother  of  the  horse,  would  answer  the  purpose. 

"'I  chang-ed  my  mind,  however,  after  I  had  a  few  mal- 
practice suits  on  my  hands.  I  shall  never  forg-et  one  annoy- 
ing- case,  in  which  a  woman  broug-ht  suit  against  me  for 
having-  alienated  her  husband's  affections  by  filling-  his  veins 
full  of  mule  serum.  I  don't  know  exactly  how  that  confounded 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  265 

mule  sap  acted,  but  the  old  lady  made  things  mighty  lively 
for  me  for  awhile.  She  claimed  her  husband  had  become  so 
stubborn  that  she  could  no  longer  manage  him,  to  say  nothing 
of  his  tendency  to  bray  on  badly  selected  occasions.  He 
was  like  that  deluded  cat  who  swallowed  the  canary  bird — he 
fondly  fancied  he  could  sing.' 

"'Well,'  I  said,  in  great  amusement,  'if  your  method 
acted  as  a  disturber  of  the  domestic  happiness  of  your  clien- 
tele I  am  not  at  all  surprised  that  you  got  yourself  in  trouble. 
Still,  the  same  principle  that  acted  so  unfortunately  in  the 
case  you  have  mentioned,  should  have  been  invaluable  in 
properly  selected  cases,  and  with  the  proper  kind  of  serum.' 

"'Exactly,'  replied  Skully;  'I  made  the  same  practical 
deduction  from  my  clinical  experiments,  and  followed  the 
treatment  along  the  lines  suggested,  but,  alas!  like  many 
another  pioneer  in  science,  I  fell  a  victim  to  my  own  enthu- 
siasm. 

"  'It  so  happened  that  my  practice  was  to  a  great  extent 
limited  to  people  of  the  upper  class — real  aristocrats,  you 
know. 

"  'Among  my  clientele  was  a  noble  family  whose  practice 
was  not  only  valuable  to  me,  but  whose  patronage  gave  me 
unbounded  social  prestige  and  great  influence  in  court  and 
church  circles. 

"  'The  only  son  and  heir  of  this  family,  the  young  duke 

of  X ,  was,  as  might  be  surmised,  the  pride  of  his 

parents.  Upon  him  they  had  built  their  hopes  of  the  succes- 
sion and  future  glory  of  their  noble  house. 

"  'But  alas!  the  bacillus  tuberculosis  is  ever  on  the  alert 
for  noble  prey,  and,  in  an  evil  hour,  it  seized  upon  the  young 
duke ! 

"  '  To  say  I  was  embarrassed  at  the  necessity  of  inform- 
ing the  family  of  the  presence  of  the  dread  monster  in  the 
lungs  of  their  darling  son,  would  barely  express  the  emotions 
that  agitated  my  tender  bosom  after  the  discovery  of  the 
disease  in  my  noble  patient!' 

"  'But,  my  dear  Skully,'  I  said,  'the  bacillus  tuberculosis 
is  a  modern  discoverv.  Koch' — 


266  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'  Great  heavens,  doctor!  Will  you  never  be  done  with 
your  skepticism?  Pray  do  not  mention  that  impudent,  noisy 
humbug1,  Koch,  in  my  presence  again!  He  is  an  impostor, 
pure  and  simple.  Tuberculo-bugology  was  known  a  hundred 
years  before  Confucius.  It  was  really  against  the  terrible 
tubercle  bacillus  that  the  Chinese  "stink-pot"  was  first 
employed.' 

"'Really!'  I  exclaimed,  'I  understand  now,  why  iodo- 
f  orm  '- 

"  'Precisely  so;  you  see  at  once  the  absurdity  of  some  of 
your  Jin  de  siecle  notions  of  scientific  orig-inality. 

"  'But, to  return  to  my  noble  patient: 

"'I  assured  his  parents,  that,  while  I  did  not  desire  to 
underrate  the  importance  of  the  case,  and  realized  perfectly 
that  it  would  inevitably  prove  fatal  in  other  and  less  skillful 
hands  than  my  own,  I  felt  certain  that  under  my  treatment 
their  dear  son  would  recover. ' 

"  '  Of  course,'  I  remarked,  '  you  congratulated  them  upon 
their  judicious  selection  of  a  physician,  and  complimented 
them  on  their  good  fortune  in  escaping  the  nets  of  the  other 
prominent  physicians  of  your  locality.  You  doubtless  also 
explained  to  them  the  diagnostic  stupidity  and  therapeutical 
incapacity  of  your  alleged  competitors.' 

"  'Well,  I'll— be— trephined!'  exclaimed  Skully,  'Doctor,, 
are  you  a  mind  reader?' 

"'By  no  means,  sir,'  I  modestly  replied,  'but  you  were 
so  thoroughly  up  to  date  in  your  practice,  that  I  quite  natur- 
urally  anticipated  the  ethical  points  you  were  about  to  make. 
But  go  on  with  your  clinical  report,  my  dear  Skully,  and  par- 
don the  interruption.' 

"  'It  is  hardly  necessary  to  state  that  the  parents  of  the 
young  duke  gladly  availed  themselves  of  my  wonderful  skill, 
and  expressed  their  willingness  to  submit  him  to  any  plan  of 
treatment  I  might  suggest.  As  a  matter  of  course,  any  other 
treatment  than  my  horse-serum  method  was  not  to  be  thought 
of.  I  therefore  requested  that  my  distinguished  patient  be 
sent  to  my  private  sanatarium,  where  I  could  personally 
supervise  the  treatment. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  267 


it   4 


With  that  intuitive  sense  of  dang-er  of  the  taint  of 
plebeian  blood  which  the  born  aristocrat  always  possesses, 
the  mother  of  the  patient  objected  to  my  using-  serum  drawn 
from  the  veins  of  an  ordinary  horse.  To  pacify  the  haughty 
dame,  I  volunteered  to  prepare  an  animal  of  the  hig-hest  birth 
and  breeding-,  especially  for  her  son's  case. 

'*'!  chanced  to  be  something-  of  a  horse  fancier  myself, 
and  was  the  proud  possessor  of  some  fine,  blooded  animals. 
Among-  them  was  a  trotter  that  had  a  record  of  two-five-and- 
a-quarter — 

"  'Hold  on  there,  Skully!'  I  cried,  'not  so  fast,  please — 
did  you  say  two-five-and-a-quarter?' 

"'That's  what  I  said,  doctor,'  answered  Skully  with 
some  embarrassment.  '  I  acknowledg-e  that  his  record  mig-ht 
have  been  better,  but  he  was  faster  than  any  other  doctor's 
horse  in  my  town,  and  was  really  as  g-ood  as  I  could  afford  to 
keep.  Indeed,  he  was  too  fast,  as  the  sequel  proved.— 

"  'I  determined  to  immunize  my  favorite  steed, and  sub- 
mitted my  plan  to  the  duke's  parents.  They  were  well 
satisfied  with  my  charg-er's  pedigree — which  I  had  traced 
back  to  the  proto-hippus  of  the  pliocene  era— and  seemed 
delig-hted  by  the  interest  I  took  in  their  son's  case. 

"  '  The  young-  man  went  throug-h  his  course  of  treatment 
without  the  slig-htest  unfavorable  symptom,  and  returned  to 
his  parents  apparently  perfectly  cured.' 

"  'Well,  you  surely  couldn't  ask  more  than  that!'  I  said. 
'  You  should  have  been  proud  of  your  achievement,  sir.  I 
presume  that  the  remarkable  result  g-ave  your  practice  quite 
a  boom.' 

"'Alas!  so  one  mig-ht  naturally  suppose,'  answered 
Skully,  with  a  long-drawn,  melancholy  sig-h,  '  but  the  case 
proved  disastrous  to  me  before  I  had  done  with  it.' 

"  'Why,  how  was  that,  Skully?'  I  asked,  in  great  surprise. 

"  '  It  came  about  throug-h  a  most  unforeseen  combination 
of  fortuitous  circumstances,'  replied  the  skull.  'A  fellow 
from  Eng-land  came  over  to  the  continent  \vith  a  string-  of 
thoroug-hbreds,  and  instituted  a  series  of  trotting-  races. 
The  young-  duke  happened  to  attend  one  of  them,  and  within 


268  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

three  days  he  had  ruined  his  family  and  turned  defaulter  in 
large  amount!' 

"  '  Yes,  my  dear  Skully,  but  there  is  nothing-  remarkable 
about  that — it  has  happened  many  times.  Besides,  I  don't  see 
what  your  treatment  had  to  do  with  it.' 

"  The  skull  fairly  groaned,  as  though  my  stupidity  gave 
him  pain. 

"'My  dear  doctor,'  he  said  impatiently,  'didn't  I  tell 
you  that  the  characteristics  of  the  animal  from  which  the 
serum  was  taken,  were  imparted  to  the  person  receiving"  the 
treatment?' 

"  '  Yes,  I  believe  you  did.' 

"  'And  did  I  not  also  say  that  my  horse  had  a  record?' 

"  'Such  was  my  impression,'  I  replied. 

"'Then  why  are  you  so  obtuse?'  cried  Skully,  'The 
duke  went  broke  making  books  on  himself!' 

"'Ah!  I  see,'  I  replied,  'the  young  man  had  literary 
aspirations.' 

"  The  skull  looked  at  me  steadily  for  a  moment  and  then 
muttered  something,  which,  I  fancied,  sounded  much  like 
'hypocrite!'  or  'idiot!'  His  meaning,  however,  escaped  me. 

"  '  Well,  Skully, '  I  said,  '  turn  about  is  fair  play.  Animals 
derive  many  bad  traits  from  association  with  human  beings, 
and  it  is  rather  interesting  to  know  they  sometimes  get  even.' 

"'Yes,  doctor,  that  is  true,'  replied  the  disconsolate 
Skully,  'and  by  the  way?  do  you  know  that  the  most  remark- 
able studies  of  human-like  traits  in  animals  have  been  made 
by  a  layman?' 

"'No,  I  was  not  aware  of  it,'  I  replied.  'Who  was  the 
illustrious  savant?"1 

"  '  Why,  my  friend  Carter,  of  the  Tribune?  said  the  skull 
proudly.  ' Do  you  know  him?' 

"  '  N —  no,  I  don't  believe  I  do.  Pray,  what  did  he  dis- 
cover?' I  asked. 

"  'Oh,  I  couldn't  begin  to  tell  you  all  he  has  discovered; 
but  'twas  he  who  wrote  that  celebrated  clinical  treatise  on 
"Inebriety  in  turtles."  ' 

"  '  What! — inebriety  in  turtles?  What  the  dev what — 

are — you — talking — about,  anyhow,  Skully?' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  269 

"  '  Now  see  here,  doctor,'  said  the  skull,seriously,  '  if  you 
are  going-  to  hold  me  responsible  for  your  own  lamentable 
illiteracy,  I  may  as  well  stop  talking1.' 

"  'Oh,  well,'  I  said,  with  sublime  resignation  and  remark- 
able self-control,  'let  us  have  the  story  if  there  is  one.' 

"'With  pleasure,'  replied  the  skull,  evidently  somewhat 
mollified  by  my  evident  submission  to  the  inevitable. 

"'It  seems  that  Carter  has  a  friend  living  on  a  farm  a 
little  way  from  town,  who  frequently  asks  him  to  visit  his 
place  over  Sunday. 

"  '  This  friend  is  a  connoisseur  of  the  good  things  of  life, 
and  has  a  cellar  well-stocked  with  the  finest  of  liquid  enjoy- 
ment. Nobody  appreciates  a  well-appointed  cellar,  better 
than  my  friend  Carter.  He  has  reason  to  appreciate  this 
particular  cellar,  for  his  friend  always  gives  him  a  pass  key 
to  the  heavenly  regions — which  lie  below  in  this  case — as  soon 
as  he  arrives  on  Saturday  night. 

"  'It  chanced  that  one  evening,  while  Carter  was  trying 
to  equalize  his  capacity  with  the  quantity  of  good  things  the 
cellar  contained,  he  saw  as  remarkable  a  sight  as  was  ever 
beheld  by  human  eyes. 

"  'As  he  stood  quietly  in  the  shadow  of  a  large  pile  of 
casks  and  boxes  of  cognac  and  other  precious  fluids  in  the 
corner  of  the  cellar,  wrondering  when  his  thirst  would  cease — 
and  hoping  that  it  would  never  do  so — he  heard  a  peculiar 
noise  at  the  outside  entrance  of  the  cellar. 

"  'The  door  of  this  entrance,  which  communicated  with 
the  garden  at  the  side  of  the  house,  had  been  left  open  for 
purposes  of  ventilation.  Leading  from  this  door  down  into 
the  cellar, was  an  inclined  plane  of  boards,  evidently  designed 
to  facilitate  the  sliding  of  casks  into  the  repository  below. 

"  'As  Carter,  attracted  by  the  disturbance,  looked  toward 
the  aperture,  he  saw,  sliding  down  the  incline,  the  queerest 
tobogganning  party  ever  heard  of. 

"  'First,  came  the  house  cat,  a  huge  mottled  fellow  of  the 
Thomas  breed.  In  his  mouth  was  a  large  rabbit,  evidently 
dead  and  oblivious  to  his  surroundings.  Behind  the  cat  was 
a  large  turtle,of  the  snapping  variety.  The  cat's  tail  was  in 


270 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


the  turtle's  mouth,  and  the  cat  was  evidently  enacting-  the 
role  of  draught  horse  for  his  carapacious  companion. 

"  'As  Thomas  started  down  the  incline,  he  dropped  the 


THEREBY    HANGS — A   TURTLE. 


rabbit,  which  rolled  to  the  cellar  floor — then,  swing-ing-  about, 
proceeded  to  back  down  the  incline,  thus  gently  lowering  the 
turtle  to  the  bottom. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  271 

"  'When  the  odd-looking-  couple  reached  the  floor  of  the 
cellar,  the  turtle  released  his  hold  upon  the  cat's  tail  and  lay 
perfectly  still — the  cat  meanwhile  disappearing-. 

"  'As  you  mig-ht  suppose,  Carter's  curiosity  was  aroused, 
and  he  resolved  to  follow  the  cat  and  see  what  he  was  about. 

"'Thomas,  apparently  all  unconscious  of  our  friend's 
presence,  stalked  majestically  over  to  a  whisky  barrel  that 
lay  in  a  far  corner  of  the  cellar. 

"  '  Mounting-  the  barrel,  the  cat  proceeded  to  extract  the 
bung  with  his  teeth.  He  then  deliberately  inserted  his  tail 
through  the  bung-hole  into  the  liquor! 

"'Having-  thoroughly  saturated  his  "wick-ed"  tail  with 
the  whisky,  the  cat  leaped  to  the  floor,  returned  to  the  ex- 
pectant turtle,  and,  to  Carter's  astonishment,  proceeded  to 
draw  his  caudal  appendage  repeatedly  throug-h  his  compan- 
ion's g-aping  mouth! 

"  '  Ag-ain  and  ag-ain,  the  cat  repeated  his  trips  to  the  cask, 
and  returning-,  attended  to  the  thirst  of  the  turtle,  who  finally 
rolled  over  upon  his  back  as  drunk  as  any  lord ! 

"'Thomas  seemed  to  be  considerably  annoyed  by  his 
companion's  lack  of  staying-  power,  but  immediately  set  to 
work  to  arouse  him.  The  turtle  finally  managed  to  stag-ger 
to  his  feet  again,  and  after  apparently  beg-ging-  for  another 
drink,  which  the  cat  peremptorily  refused  to  procure  for 
him,  he  again  affixed  himself  to  the  cat's  tail. 

"  '  The  turtle,  in  his  maudlin  enthusiasm,  evidently  over- 
did the  thing  this  time,  for  the  cat  yowled  with  pain  in  spite 
of  himself,  and  scrambled  up  the  incline  and  out  of  the  cellar 
door,  with  more  speed  than  grace. 

"'After  a  short  time  the  cat  returned,  and  with  a 
"meow!"  of  satisfaction,  picked  up  the  rabbit  and  dis- 
appeared behind  some  rubbish  in  an  obscure  corner  of  the 
cellar.' 

"'How  remarkable!'  I  cried,  'but  did  Carter  ever  learn 
where  the  cat  g-ot  the  rabbit?' 

"  '  Yes,'  replied  Skully,  'and  therein  lies  the  meat  of  the 
story.  It  seems  that  the  turtle  killed  the  rabbit.' 

"'What!  the  turtle  killed  the  rabbit?  Why,  that's 
impossible!'  I  said,  'Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing-?' 


272  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'Excuse  me,  doctor,'  said  Skully,  with  great  dignity, 
'  but  my  friend  Carter  is  a  man  of  honor,  sir,  and  I  cannot 
allow  his  statements  to  be  impeached.' 

"  '  Oh  well,  Skully,  we  won't  argue  about  your  friend 
Carter's  veracity,'  I  said,  '  Finish  your  story,  please.' 

"  '  The  turtle  caught  his  rabbits  in  a  very  ingenious  and 
business-like  fashion,'  continued  the  skull.  'He  lay  in  wait 
on  the  top  of  a  hay-cock  out  in  the  field,  and,  as  the  rabbits 
passed  by,  dropped  down  upon  them  and  killed  them  by  biting 
them  at  the  base  of  the  skull — through  the  medulla,  you  know. 

"  '  Turtles,  as  you  are  well  aware,  do  not  eat  rabbits,  but 
this  particular  turtle  had  an  object  in  view,  as  Carter  had 
already  discovered.  Learning  that  cats  were  fond  of  rabbits, 
the  turtle  had  struck  a  bargain  with  Thomas,  and  was  trading 
his  prey  for  booze.' 

"'By  the  way,  Skully,'  I  said,  'how  did  you  ever  get 
acquainted  with  that  man  Carter  ?  ' 

"  '  I  was  introduced  to  him  at  the  Press  Club,  just  after  I 
came  to  this  city,'  replied  the  skull. 

"  '  Why,  how  can  that  be?'  I  asked.  'The  old  sailor  who 
gave — I  mean  introduced,  you  tome,  said  that  he  brought  you 
from  China  with  him.' 

'"Well,  he  lied,  that's  all,'  said  the  skull,  indignantly,  'I 
came  over  from  Canton,  it  is  true,  but  he  didn't  bring  me.  I 
came  over  in  a  chest  of  tea  as  a  stowaway.' 

"  '  How  did  he  know  your  history  then  ? '  I  asked. 

"  '  Why,  I  told  it  to  him ;  more's  the  pity.  He  was  such 
a  coarse  fellow  too!  You  see,  doctor,'  said  Skully,  apologeti- 
cally, 'I  was  full  of — well,  you  know,  that  paste.  It  always 
makes  me  loquacious, and  I  sometimes  forget  myself  when  I 
have  taken  it.'- 

"  '  The  story  you  have  told  me  about  your  friend  Carter's 
wonderful  contribution  to  science,  is  all  well  enough  as  a 
digression,  Skully,'  I  said,  'but  I  am  anxious  to  learn  some- 
thing more  which  may  be  useful  to  me  in  my  medical  studies. 
You  doubtless  might  enlighten  me  on  some  very  obscure 
points.  For  example,  I  should  like  to  know  whether  you  ever 
succeeded  in  curing  that  bete  noir  of  modern  surgery — 
cancer.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


273 


"'lam  glad  you  have  mentioned  the  subject  of  cancer, 
my  dear  doctor.  To  be  frank  with  you,  I  am  ashamed  of  the 
results  of  all  the  present  systems  of  treatment.  Cancer  was 
with  us,  one  of  the  most  controllable  of  diseases.  I  should 

like  to  show  you 
the  reports  of  the 
bureau  of  vital 
statistics  of  my 
old  town  —  w  h  y , 
you  couldn't  find 
a  single  recorded 
case  of  death  from 


"NO    PATIENT    SO   TREATED  EVER  DIED   OF    CANCER." 

cancer,  for  a  period  of  at  least  ten  years.  And  yet,  we  had 
as  many  cases  among-  us,  as  you  have  to-day.1 

"  'Ah!'  I  exclaimed,  as  I  hurriedly  reached  for  my  note 
book  and  pencil.  'What  was  your  method  of  treatment?' 

'"Well,  sir,'  he  replied,  'we  recog-nized  the  important 
fact  that  cancer  was  a  blood  disease,  and  treated  it  on  rational 
principles  by  removing-  the  vitiated,  poisoned  blood.' 


274  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'And  pray,  how  much  did  you  usually  remove?'  I  asked. 

"  '  Three  quarts,'  answered  the  skull. 

"  '  Three  quarts!'  I  exclaimed,  'and  what  was  your  per- 
centage of  cures?' 

"'One  hundred  per  cent,'  replied  my  friend,  blandly. 
'No  patient  so  treated  was  ever  known  to  die  of  cancer. ' 

"  'And  how  did  you  restore  the  equilibrium  of  the  cir- 
culation?' I  asked,  with  the  true  scientific  spirit  of  thorough 
investigation. 

"'With  air,  sir,'  replied  Skully,  with  an  expression  of 
contempt  for  my  ignorance.  '  We  filled  the  veins  with  air, 
and  thus  restored  the  proper  arterial  tension.  Of  course,  we 
always  sterilized  the  air — we  melted  it  before  injecting-  it.' 

"'And  did  you  not  have  trouble  from  air  bubbles?'  I 
inquired.  'When  we  accidentally  cut  the  jugular,  we — 

"  '  Bubbles ! '  cried  the  skull,  '  bubbles !  how  absurd !  Of 
course  we  were  not  annoyed  by  bubbles!  We  didn't  have 
that  kind  of  people  in  my  day.  Our  patients  could  carry  a 
cargo  of  sterilized  air  without  the  least  trouble.  '- 

"  '  One  of  the  many  things  in  which  we  old-time  doctors 
had  the  advantage  of  you  modern  fellows,  was  in  the  matter 
of  feeding  our  patients.  Nutrition,  sir,'  said  the  skull,  'is 
the  key-note  to  successful  therapeutics.  The  principal 
objection  I  have  to  offer  regarding  your  modern  methods 
of  feeding,  is  the  enormous  bulk  of  material  which  you  find 
necessary  for  the  sustenance  of  your  patients.  You  do  not 
concentrate  enough. 

" '  Concentration  of  foods,  in  order  to  be  of  practical 
utility,  must  result  in  the  production  of  substances  that  have 
a  high  nutritive  value,  associated  with  a  very  small  bulk. 
This  cannot  be  attained  by  your  present  methods.  Your 
methods  of  beef  concentration,  for  example,  will  never  be 
successful  until  your  manufacturers  proceed  upon  logical 
lines  and  breed  cattle  especially  for  that  purpose,  as  we  did. 

"'My  own  method  was  productive  of  most  marvelous 
results.  I  invented  a  process  of  concentration  which  was  so 
successful  that  a  small  lozenge  of  my  concentrated  beef 
would  sustain  a  patient  for  days,and  days.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  275 

"'And  what  breed  of  cattle  did  you  use?'  I  asked, 
wonderingly. 

"  '  Concentrated  cattle,  sir,'  replied  Skully.  'By  careful 
breeding1,!  produced  a  variety  of  cattle  weighing-  only  ten  or 
twelve  pounds  apiece,  yet  containing  all  the  nutritive  value 
of  ordinary  cattle. 

"'And  my  concentrated  cattle  were  valuable  in  other 
ways — they  were  great  milk  producers,  and  in  summer, 
yielded  as  fine  an  article  of  condensed  milk  as  ever  disturbed 
a  baby's  stomach,  while  in  winter — they  gave  ice  cream!' 

"I  g-azed  at  the  skull  in  admiration.  Who  had  ever  done 
so  much  for  humanity  as  he?" 


"  'Pardon  me,  Skully,'  I  said,  'if  I  am  disposed  to  impose 
on  good  nature,  but  I  cannot  refrain  from  asking  you  one 
more  question  that  seems  to  me  to  be  quite  important.  Did 
you  have  any  special  devices  for  intestinal  surgery  in  your 
day?' 

"' Yes,  indeed,  replied  my  friend,  pleasantly,  '  we  went 
through  the  same  fads  and  fancies  that  are  at  present  con- 
vulsing- modern  surgery.  Your  metallic  devices  for  splicing 
the  intestines  are  simply  a  revival  of  my  old  methods. 

" '  My  first  device  for  coupling  intestines  consisted  of  a 
sort  of  collar,  composed  of  a  section  of  petrified  dog's  intes- 
tine which  was  slipped  like  a  ferrule  over  the  ends  of  the  cut 
intestinal  tube.  The  sound  portions  of  the  intestine  were 
barked  so  frequently,  however,  that  the  method  became  un- 
popular, and  I  afterwards  invented  some  metallic  devices, 
but  they  met  with  no  better  success.' 

"  'Indeed,  and  why  not?'  I  asked. 

"'Oh,  well,'  replied  the  skull,  'you  see,  the  fashions 
changed  too  often.  Brass,  nickel,  aluminum,  steel,  silver, 
gold,  and  rolled-plate  followed  each  other  so  rapidly  that  the 
fashionable  patient  had  to  spend  most  of  his  time  on  the  oper- 
ating table. 

"'I  presume  that  we  might  have  stood  the  changing- 
fashions,  but  a  conceited  ass  of  an  English  surgeon  modified 
my  device  by  inserting  a  couple  of  reeds  in  it,  and  that  settled 
the  thing.' 


276  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  How  so?'  I  inquired. 

"  '  Well,  you  see,  it  became  the  fashion  among-  the  fawning- 
nobility,  to  have  one  of  the  musical  devices  inserted  into  the 
oesophag-us,  in  imitation  of  the  heir  apparent  to  the  throne, 
who  had  had  a  bass-toned  one  inserted  in  his  own  larynx  to 
make  him  appear  more  manly. 

"'His  servile  followers  imitated  him  as  nearly  as  they 
dared,  and  had  similar  devices  put  into  their  gullets.  The 
result  was,  that  when  the  dinner  hour  arrived,  all  England 
resounded  with  a  strident  chorus  of  "God  save  the  King-, "as 
the  loyal  soup  trickled  down  the  still  more  loyal  British 
throat. 

"  'The  people  finally  arose  in  their  might,  and  removed 
the  musical  devices  from  the  throats  of  the  aristocracy  by 
the  shortest  possible  route — by  cutting  off  their  heads. 

"'That  settled  all  metallic  devices  for  operations  upon 
the  hollow  viscera.  Socialism  proved  too  strong  for  them.' 

"At  this  juncture  I  glanced  at  the  clock,  and  noted  that 
it  was  almost  morning-. 

"  'Skully,'Isaid,  'it  is  getting- well  along- toward  daylight, 
and,  although  your  conversation  is  very  entertaining-  and  in 
the  hig-hest  degree  instructive,  it  is  about  time  we  were  con- 
cluding- our  conversazione.  I  will  take  the  liberty  of  asking 
you  one  more  question,and  then  I  must  say  au  revoir.'1 

"  '  You  are  right,  my  dear  doctor,'  replied  the  skull,  '  your 
wife  may  worry  about  you, too,  and  as  for  myself,  I  shouldn't 
mind  having  about  forty  winks.  You  see,  I  am  not  so  young 
as  I  might  be,  and  I  need  much  more  rest  than  I  once  did. 
But  what  is  the  question  you  want  me  to  answer?' 

"  '  I  would  like  to  ask  what  your  specialty  was,  when  you 
were  in  active  practice,'  I  replied. 

"  'Well,  doctor,  I  had  a  specialty  that  is  but  little  heard 
of  now-a-days — I,  sir,  was  a  general  practitioner!'  and  the 
skull's  lip  curled  with  haughty  pride. 

"  'And  were  you  successful?'  I  asked. 

"  'Very,' replied  the  skull,  'and  I  was  successful  upon  my 
merits,  too.  Why,  sir,  I  didn't  go  to  church,  nor  belong  to  a 
lodge,  nor  teach  in  a  medical  college,  nor  advertise,  and  I  never 
stole  a  case  from  a  brother  practitioner,  or  patted  a  dirty 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


277 


young--one  on  the  head  and  called  it  "  tootsey-wootsey  "  in  my 
life.'1 

"  'And  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  were  prosper- 
ous?' I  shouted,  rising"  to  my  feet  in  righteous,  yet  trembling1, 
indignation. 

""Of  course  I  was!  Why,  doctor,  my  income  for  my 
third  year  of  practice  was  fifty  thousand— 

"'Liar!'  I  shrieked,   '  Vile  imposter!   Infamous — 

"'Why — William  Weymouth!  What  on  earth  are  you 
screaming  and  swearing  so  about?  You've  fallen  asleep  in 
your  chair  and  had  a  night-mare,  I'll  warrant  you !  Come  to 
bed,  you  silly  fellow;  it's  past  three  o'clock!  Do  you  want  to 
ruin  your  health? '- 

"And  my  wife  took  me  by  the  arm  and  led  me  gently, 
but  with  evident  fixity  of  purpose,  away  to  my  sleeping 
apartment. 

"Ah!  my  boy,  the  Baron  Munchausen  was  modest 
enough,  after  all — while  hasheesh  is,  indeed,  a  wonderful 
drug  and  beats  the  old  Baron  at  his  own  game! 

"And  now,  sir,  let  us  drink  a  parting  cup,  and  say  good 
nisrht." 


A  MARTYR  TO  HIS  PASSIONS, 


OT   all  of  life's  colors  are 


Nor  all  of   its   memories 

bright, 
Mine  own,  had  its  sadness 

one  day, 
And  the  smoke  brings  it 

back  to-night 
The  spray  from  the  ocean 

of  years- 
Dark  drops  from  the  river 

of  Time, 
Bring  visions  I  see  through 

my  tears  — 
I'm  sipping  the  dregs  of 

the  wine, 

And   yet   through   the   smoke   I   can   see, 
Those   tears  in   a   smile   fade   away  — 
So   what   are   sad   visions   to   me, 
If   only   the   rosy   dreams   stay? 


A  MARTYR  TO  HIS  PASSIONS, 


T  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  the  old 
doctor  was  angry.  Expressive  at 
all  times,  he  is  especially  so  on 
those  very  rare  occasions  when 
he  loses  his  temper.  The  person- 
ification of  good  nature,as  a  rule, 
there  is  no  mistaking1  his  meaning 
when  he  goes  to  the  other  ex- 
treme. I  have  often  marvelled  at 
the  masterly  command  of  the 
English  tongue  possessed  by  my 
good  friend  on  ordinary  occasions, 
but  his  knowledge  of  expletives 
and  his  resources  of  vituperative  expression  when  he  gives 
way  to  anger,  simply  overpower  me — indeed,  so  extensive  is 
the  good  doctor's  vocabulary  at  such  times,  that  I  more  than 
half  suspect  he  does  not  limit  himself  to  either  his  native 
tongue  or  foreign  languages — I  feel  certain  that  he  coins 
new  words  for  himself. 

Nor  are  the  products  of  his  word  mint  to  be  classed  as 
spurious  additions  to  the  circulation  of  language — they  have 
the  ring  of  true  metal  in  them.  Whether  founded  upon 
authority  or  not,  the  linguistic  products  of  my  friend's  anger 
are  gems  that  cannot  be  surpassed,  for  sincerity,  honesty  and 
force,  in  any  language — living  or  dead. 


"Angry?  Well,  why  shouldn't  I  be?  I  came  into  the 
library,  expecting  to  have  a  pleasant  little  smoke  all  to  myself 
while  waiting  for  you,  and  what  should  I  do  the  very  first 
thing,  but  knock  over  some  infernal  samples,  left  here  this 


284  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

afternoon  while  I  was  making-  my  calls,  by  one  of  those  peri- 
patetic fiends,  a  distributor  of  drug-  curios?  Of  course, 
several  of  the  bottles  had  to  break — my  happiness  would  have 
been  incomplete  without  that — and  just  see  what  happened! 
Look  at  this  desk!  It  is  covered  an  inch  deep,  with  some 
nasty,  treacle-like  fluid,  that  seems  corrosive  enough  to  eat 
holes  in  sheet  iron!  Here  are  two  elegantly  bound  books 
spoiled,  and  the  manuscript  upon  which  I  was  at  work  is 
daubed  so  that  it  looks  for  all  the  world  like  molasses-candy 
in  assorted  sheets! 

"By  the  great  Hippocrates!  I  have  for  once  written 
something-  that  will  stick!  And  just  g-aze  on  my  new  oriental 
rug-!  It  resembles  Mark  Twain's  map  of  Paris,  and  as  I 
look  at  it,  I  feel  like  assassinating-  the  unconscious  author  of 
the  horrible  mess — if  I  ever  catch  him! 

"  To  make  matters  worse,  I  have  been  bombarded  by 
book  ag-ents,  canvassers,  missionaries  and  drug-  distributors, 
every  minute  during-  my  office  hours  to-day.  I  don't  mind  sam- 
ples being-  left  at  the  office  so  much — I  have  use  for  them 
there;  I  have  already  accidentally  killed,  with  drug-  samples, 
three  curious  scrub  women  and  one  janitor, who  were  hunting 
for  liquor  in  my  medicine  cabinet — but  when  my  sanctum 
sanctorum  at  my  home  is  invaded  in  this  fashion,  it's  time  to 
g-et  angry ! 

"But  I  will  reveng-e  myself — I  have  just  printed  this 
placard  and  I'm  going-  to  hang-  it  up  in  my  office  to-morrow! 
Read  that,  my  boy!  Isn't  it  comprehensive? 

"  '  MISSIONARIES,  BOOK  AGENTS,  CANVASSERS,  IN- 
SURANCE AGENTS  AND  DISTRIBUTORS  OF  DRUG  SAMPLES 
WILL  PLEASE  KEEP  OUT!  I  HAVE  NO  TIME  TO  DEVOTE 
TO  THEM.  PEOPLE  WITH  SCHEMES,  WILL  BE  PROMPTLY 
POISONED,  AS  I  HAVE  SEVERAL  PET  PROJECTS  OF  MY 
OWN  TO  PROMOTE  ! ' 

"  Don't  you  think  that  oug-ht  to  do  the  business? 

"Shut  out  the  good  fellows?  Oh  no,  my  boy!  they  all 
know  where  to  find  my  latch  string-.  The  worst  of  it  is, 
however,  that  there  are  so  many  good  fellows  among  the 
representatives  of  respectable  manufacturing  drug  houses, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  285 

that  it  is  often  hard  to  draw  the  line — but  it  must  be  drawn 
somewhere.  I  have  no  objections  to  offer  to  the  methods 
and  preparations  of  our  manufacturers  of  legitimate  pharma- 
ceutical products — indeed,  we  could  hardly  do  without  them 
in  these  modern  days  of  rapid  progress  in  pharmacal  ele- 
gance, purity,  palatability,  potency  and  convenience,  but  I 
am  thoroughly  disgusted  with  both  the  methods  and  prepar- 
ations of  the  manufacturers  of  quasi-patent  medicines. 

"  Do  you  know,  my  boy,  that  such  products  are  an  insult 
to  scientific  medicine?  Why,  they  are  no  more  nor  less  than 
an  impudent  insinuation  that  the  profession  demands  some- 
body to  furnish  it  with  brains,  and  do  its  thinking  for  it! 
And  look  at  some  of  the  ridiculous  products  of  these  semi- 
quack  medicine  vendors! 

"Look  at  this  nasty  stuff,  for  example,  'Bacteriol!  The 
Universal  Germ  Killer!'  The  impudence  of  the  fellow  who 
left  it  here, beats  anything  I  ever  heard  of!  That  young  man 
has  missed  his  calling,  he  should  have  gone  into  the  cold 
storage  business — with  such  nerve  as  he  possesses  he  could 
furnish  his  own  material  for  refrigeration.  Why,  the  alleged 
virtues  of  that  abominable  mixture  are  emblazoned  on  every 
fence  and  dead  wall  in  the  city,  and,  what  is  worse,  I  saw  a 
man  walking  the  streets  this  morning  with  big  placards  on 
his  chest  and  back,  upon  which  this  very  preparation  was 
heralded  to  fame  in  letters  big  enough  to  stand  alone ! 

"Bacteriol!     Pah!  how  it  smells! 

"Pete!  Oh,  Pete!  Take  the  rest  of  these  confounded 
samples  and  throw  them  into  the  alley — and  be  sure  you 
smash  the  bottles!  When  you  have  disposed  of  the  vile  stuff, 
come  back  here  and  clean  up  this  abominable  mess — and,  by 
the  way,  Pete,  you'd  better  hold  your  breath  while  doing  it. 
That  stuff  looks  and  smells  as  though  it  might  be  bad  for 
colored  folks!" 


"Did  you  do  as  I  ordered?  Very  well.  Now,  see  here, 
my  colored  friend,  if  you  ever  allow  any  more  samples  to  be 
left  at  my  house,  there'll  be  a  dead  darky  around  here!  If 
you  don't  make  a  pretty  good  job  of  cleaning  up  my  library, 
I'll  skin  you,  and  tack  your  black-and-tan  hide  on  the  roof, 


286  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

anyhow!  Get  to  work  there,  now,  and  stop  that  infernal 
grinning-!  Your  mouth  looks  like  a  cemetery  vault  full  of 
skeletons,  anyway!" 


"Well,  my  young  friend,  the  library  looks  a  little  more 
respectable.  But,  by  all  that's  good  and  great — if  that  quack 
preparation  hasn't  taken  all  the  polish  off  my  desk ! 

"Heigho!  there's  no  use,  lad,  I  may  as  well  subside. 

"My  sentiments  at  the  present  moment,  remind  me  of 
the  experience  of  a  certain  old  Yankee  farmer  who  lived  way 
down  in  Vermont. 

"  The  old  gentleman  was  one  of  the  influential  men  of  his 
community  and  a  pretty  fair  sort  of  a  Christian.  He  had  a 
besetting-  sin,  however,  that  was  all  the  more  prominent 
because  of  the  air  of  sanctity  that  hung-  about  him  on  Sundays 
— he  was  addicted  to  profanity. 

"So  artistic  and  ornate  a  swearer  was  the  old  man,  that 
his  reputation  in  that  line  was  by  no  means  local — his  accom- 
plishment was  celebrated  throughout  the  entire  county. 
The  expression  '  swears  like  a  pirate  '  was  obsolete  in  that 
section — 'swears  like  Deacon  Hornswog-g-le,'  being-  the  up-to- 
date  phraseology  by  which  artists  in  profanity  were  char- 
acterized among  the  g-ood  people  of  the  neighborhood. 

"  Deacon  Hornswoggle  also  had  a  weakness,  an  idiosyn- 
crasy of  a  less  ornate  and  more  selfish  sort.  He  did  not 
always  take  the  best  of  his  farm  products  to  market.  Thus 
it  was  not  uncommon  for  the  load  of  produce  that  he  took  to 
town  each  week,  to  contain  fowls  of  suspicious  lineage,  eggs 
of  by  no  means  recent  vintage,  apples  of  hard  consistency 
and  bitter  flavor,  or  cabbages  with  hearts  as  corrupt  as  the 
average  alderman. 

"On  a  certain  Saturday  morning,  our  good  deacon  went 
to  market  as  usual  and  took  along  with  his  'garden  truck' 
several  large  baskets  of  eggs,  among  which  were  a  few  speci- 
mens that  had  been  inhumanely  filched  from  certain  hens 
whose  motherly  instincts  and  sedentary  habits  had  led  them 
into  an  injudicious  selection  of  raw  material  for  hatching 
purposes. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  287 

"Having1  marketed  most  of  his  other  stuff,  the  deacon 
bethought  him  of  a  neighboring-  store  at  which  he  believed  he 
would  be  able  to  consummate  an  especially  good  thing;  in  the 
way  of  an  egg-  trade.  It  was  hardly  worth  while  to  drive  over 
in  his  wagon,  so  the  old  man  picked  up  a  basket  of  eggs  and 
started  off  on  foot. 

"As  he  was  passing  across  the  public  square  constituting 
the  general  market-place  of  the  town,  a  miserable  little  yellow 
cur  ran  between  his  legs,  tripping  him  up  and  bringing  him 
to  the  ground  with  his  precious  burden.  As  he  fell,  the 
basket  tipped  and  added  an  explosion  of  eggs  to  the  comfort 
of  the  occasion.  The  deacon  sat  down  upon  the  dog,  blotting 
out  his  innocent  existence  as  suddenly  as  though  he  had  been 
a  fly,  smashed  by  a  gigantic  omelet! 

"  Now,  the  owner  of  the  dog  happened  to  be  standing  by, 
and  witnessed  the  death  of  his  pet.  Walking  up  to  the 
deacon,  just  as  that  worthy  gentleman  was  struggling  to  his 
feet,  streaming  with  eggs  and  super-saturated  with  speech- 
less woe,  he  struck  the  old  man  fairly  on  the  nose,  knocking 
him  back  into  the  puddle  of  eggs  and  sausage  meat,  the  blood 
streaming  from  his  nose  like  a  miniature  cataract.  Having 
thus  vindicated  his  family  honor,  the  indignant  owner  of  the 
defunct  canine  strode  away. 

"Some  minutes  later,a  friend  pushed  through  the  crowd 
that  was  standing  about  Mr.  Hornswoggle  and  condoling  with 
him. — 

"  The  old  man  was  quietly  sitting  in  the  midst  of  the  con- 
glomerate mess  of  eggs,  blood  and  raw  dog,  without  saying  a 
word,  whereat  the  friend  was  much  amazed. 

"  'Deacon,'  he  said,  'air  you  hurt  bad?' 

"  The  deacon  shook  his  head. 

"'Why,  deacon,  what  makes  you  so — so  quiet?  You 
aint — well,  you  aint  allus  so  quiet.' 

"The  old  man  glared  at  him  steadily  for  a  moment,  and 
then  said — 

' '  Well,  neighbor,  I've  been  in  this  yere  community,  man 
an'  boy,  for  nigh  onto  fifty  year,  an'  though  I  say  it  as 
shouldn't,  I've  been  er  purty  fair  swearer  in  my  day.  But 


288  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

thar'  comes  er  time  when  the  smartest  feller  on  airth  meets 
his  match. 

"  'I've  been  er  settin'hyar  fera  plum  quarter  of  an  hour, 
tryin'  ter  find  suthin'  suiterble  ter  say,  but  I  haint  thort  er 
nothin'  what  ud  do  ther  subjeck  jestice.' 

"  '  Well,'  said  the  comforter,  as  he  sniffed  the  air,  '  I  don't 
know  ez  it's  nec'ssary  fer  yaou  ter  say  anythin'  anyhow, 
deacon — thar's  sulphur  ernuff  hereabouts.  Yore  eggs  air 
speakin'  fer  themselves,  purty  middlin'  loud.' 

"And  the  deacon  glared  again." 


"  Now  that  the  smoke  of  battle  has  cleared  away,  and  the 
fragrant  mist  of  my  hookah  is  beginning  to  perfume  the  air, 
I  am  going  to  tell  you  something,  young  man.  Giving  way  to 
emotions,  whether  of  sorrow  or  anger,  is  the  most  foolisli 
thing  one  can  do.  Benjamin  Ward  Richardson  was  not  far 
from  right,  when  he  said  that  anger  shortened  one's  life.  It 
is  the  most  wearing  of  all  passions.  Whenever  I  allow  my 
temper  to  run  riot  as  I  have  done  this  evening,  I  not  only  feel 
humiliated,  but  decidedly  out  of  sorts  for  several  days. 
Anger  is  not  only  undignified  and  ridiculous— it  is  positively 
exhausting.  Even  joy  may  be  dangerous. 

''And  by  the  way,  speaking  of  the  evils  of  violent  passions 
reminds  me  of  a  rather  interesting  character  that  I  once  met, 
who  seemed  to  be  an  exception  to  the  rule  in  some  respects — 
as  regards  longevity  at  least.  Have  you  the  patience  to 
listen  to  one  of  my  prosy  character  sketches? — 

"Very  well,  then,  here  goes: 

"One  winter  evening  about  ten  years  ago,  I  received  a 
telegram  from  a  brother  practitioner  in  a  little  Wisconsin 
town,  asking  me  to  come  up  the  following  day  and  operate 
upon  a  case  of  pyo-thorax  for  him.  The  case  presented  no 
features  of  special  interest  and  the  operation  was  quite 
ordinary,  hence  I  was  enabled  to  start  for  home  without 
delay.  This  was  somewhat  unusual  in  my  experience — we 
never  know  exactly  what  we  are  going  to  find,  when  we  post 
off  to  far-away  cases.  As  a  rule,  a  case  that  puzzles  or  em- 
barasses  a  country  practitioner,  is  complicated  enough  to  suit 
the  most  fastidious  scientific  taste.  I  therefore  felicitated 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  289 

myself  on  the  speedy  completion  of  the  operation,  and  thanked 
my  friend  for  throwing-  in  my  way  a  fee  that  I  did  not  have  to 
earn  by  the  hour. 

"  My  train  was  due  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and 
after  a  pleasant  dinner  and  a  post-prandial  cigar  at  my 
friend's  home,  he  drove  me  in  his  cutter  at  a  lively  gait  over 
the  snowy  roads  to  the  station. 

"We  arrived  in  excellent  time,  but,  much  to  my  disgust, 
the  train  not  only  did  not  arrive,  but  I  was  informed  by  the 
station  agent  that  he  had  just  received  a  telegram  to  the  effect 
that  an  accident  had  happened  up  the  road,  and  there  would 
consequently  be  no  train  through  before  six  o'clock. 

"  Here  was  a  quandary.— I  could  not  very  well  return 
home  with  my  friend,  for  he  lived  a  long  way  from  the  town 
proper,  at  a  little  neighboring  village  without  railroad  con- 
nections. Besides,  he  had  calls  to  make  on  the  road  back,  and 
I  did  not  wish  to  interfere  with  his  work.  Staying  all  night 
at  the  little  hotel  across  the  way  from  the  station,  would  have 
been  a  pleasant  solution  of  the  problem  that  confronted  me, 
but  I  was  obliged  to  get  back  to  the  city  that  night. 

"As  there  was  really  no  alternative,  I  resolved  to  make 
the  most  of  the  situation,  and  kill  time  as  best  I  might,  until 
my  train  arrived.  Bidding  my  friend  good-bye  and  assuring 
him — much  to  my  own  disbelief — that  I  would  be  quite  com- 
fortable and  contented  while  waiting,  I  left  the  station  and 
sought  more  genial  shelter  in  the  neighboring  inn. 

"The  establishment,  yclept  by  courtesy  the  'Farmers' 
House,'  was  rather  above  the  average  of  country  inns,  and, 
much  to  my  astonishment  and  delight,  I  found  that  the  pro- 
prietor had  a  well  stocked  side-board  concealed  upon  his 
premises.  Mine  host  was  by  no  means  an  ideal  boniface,  but 
he  certainly  knew  the  mysteries  of  the  manufacture  of  hot 
toddies.  Having  drunk  a  couple  of  his  steaming  concoctions 
— which  were  as  palatable  and  aromatic  as  brown  sugar  and 
nutmeg  could  make  them — I  sat  me  down  in  a  cozy  corner 
by  the  old-fashioned  fireplace,  lighted  a  fragrant  havana, 
took  a  book  hap-hazard  from  among  several  handy  volumes 
that  I  had  stowed  away  in  my  capacious  satchel,  and  settled 
back  in  the  comfortable  old  arm  chair  which  the  rosv-faced 


290  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

daughter  of  the  household  brought  me,  with  a  sigh  of  satis- 
faction and  contentment. 

"  'Really,'  I  thought,  '  this  is,  indeed,  making  the  best  of 
a  bad  bargain.  The  philosophically  inclined  may  always  get 
a  crumb  of  comfort  out  of  the  most  unpleasant  predicament. 
Still,'  I  mused,  as  I  glanced  out  of  the  window  at  the  sleety 
storm  that  had  meanwhile  blown  up — 'philosophy  works  best 
on  hot  toddy  and  a  good  cigar,  before  warm  and  blazing  knots. 
The  poor  fellow  who  has  not  the  wherewithal,  the  same  shall 
not  philosophize.' 

"  'Ugh!?  I  exclaimed,  as  I  heard  the  whistle  of  the  wind 
without,  and  then  said  to  myself  half  aloud — 'I'd  rather  be 
waiting  here,  than  driving  over  those  cold  and  snowy  roads, 
with  that  biting  wind  and  stinging  sleet  in  my  face,  as  my 
poor  doctor  friend  is  doing  just  now!' 

"  'Well,'  I  reflected,  'it  might  be  much  worse,  and  I  can 
kill  time  very  nicely  with  my  book.' 

"Strange  to  say,  the  book  that  I  had  selected  at  random, 
proved  to  be  dear  old  Ik  Marvel's  'Reveries  of  a  Bachelor.' 

"You  see,  my  boy,  I  do  my  general  reading  at  odd  mo- 
ments.— 

"'Could  anything  be  more  timely  or  appropriate?'  I 
thought.  'What  greater  inspiration  to  sentiment,  what  more 
delicious  intellectual  feast  than  this  little  book?' 

'"Feast?  Yes — a  feast  where  the  literary  gourmand 
may  revel  in  viands  prepared  by  the  soul  and  served  by  the 
emotions — a  feast  where  Lucullus  indeed  dines  with  Lucul- 
lus — a  board  loaded  to  overflowing  with  sentiment,  and  gar- 
nished with  the  blossoms  of  an  imagery  fairer  and  more  fra- 
grant than  all  the  exotics  of  the  East!' 

"A  moment  later,and  I  was  revelling  in  those  tender  and 
heartful  reveries  that,  after  nearly  half  a  century  has  rolled 
away,  are  still  the  ideal  of  poetic  prose — the  acme  of  delicate 
word-painting. 

"  So  absorbed  did  I  become,  that  I  did  not  realize  that  I 
was  no  longer  alone  in  that  queer  old  apartment — half  office, 
and  half  sitting  room. 

"  Having  attended  to  my  modest  wants,  and  seeing  me 
ensconce  myself  in  the  old  arm  chair  before  the  cheerful  fire, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  291 

the  landlord  and  his  interesting-  family  had  retired,  to  attend 
to  other  and  more  urgent  duties  than  the  entertainment  of  a 
traveler  who  seemed  to  understand  the  art  of  self-entertain- 
ment so  well  as  I  did. 

"My  own  soul  was  becoming-  so  comming-led  with  my 
dear  old  author's  reveries,  that  I  was  fast  losing-  my  intellect- 
ual identity,  when  a  voice  at  my  elbow  brougiit  me  back  to 
earth  again: 

"  'Pardon  me,  my  dear  sir,  for  interrupting- your  pleasant 
intellectual  recreation,  but  if  you  are  like  most  travelers, 
cong-enial  companionship  may  be  more  grateful  to  you  than 
even  the  most  fascinating-  volume.  Excuse  the  implied  ego- 
tism,  sir,  but,you  know,  we  are  all  likely  to  measure  the  tastes 
and  predilections  of  other  men,  by  our  own,  and  my  life  is  so 
largely  made  up  of  yearning  for  congenial  society,  that  I  am 
likely  to  forget  the  formalities  of  conventional  custom.' 

"  Extraordinary  as  was  both  the  interruption  and  the 
language  in  which  it  was  couched,  its  author  was  still  more 
remarkable — indeed,  I  do  not  think  I  have  ever  seen  a  more 
striking  personality  than  the  man  who  stood  before  me. 

"  He  was  apparently  about  seventy  years  of  age,  of  me- 
dium stature  and  rather  slight  build,  with  the  most  remark- 
ably beautiful  face  I  have  ever  seen  in  male  humanity.'  A 
head  like  one  of  those  ancient  patricians  who  were  for  years 
indigenous  to  the  old  South ;  hair  and  beard  of  silvery  white- 
ness, and  one  of  those  rare,  pink  and  white  complexions  which 
are  so  often  fed  by  that  paradoxical  fluid — blue  blood;  a  pro- 
file of  the  purest  Grecian  type,  and  eyes  as  black  as  a  coal 
and  full  of  brilliancy  and  fire — such  were  the  salient  features 
of  a  face  that  would  have  delighted  the  eye  of  the  most  exact- 
ing artist  in  search  of  the  ideal. 

"  Nor  was  his  general  make-up  discordant  with  his 
refinement  of  face.  I  rapidly  noticed  that  one  coat  sleeve  was 
empty,  but  that  his  remaining  hand  was  of  a  type  as  aristo- 
cratic as  his  features.  His  feet,  I  observed — with  that  peculiar 
faculty  of  instantaneous  observation  which  the  physician 
alone,  almost  unconsciously  acquires — were  probably  small 
and  well  shaped,  despite  the  coarse  boots  in  which  they  were 
encased. 


292  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"I  also  noted  that  the  old  man's  dress  was  of  a  semi- 
military  character — the  faded  blue  blouse  with  its  tarnished 
brass  buttons,  and  his  old  military  slouch  hat,  told  the  story 
of  that  armless  sleeve  all  too  pathetically  and  plainly.  It  was 
a  relic  of  the  Civil  war,  one  of  the  only  aristocracy  in  which 
America  takes  pride;  a  member  of  that  chosen  band  which 
is  yearly  growing"  more  and  more  shadowy,  more  and 
more  decrepit — our  own  beloved  Grand  Army — that  stood 
before  me. 

"  'You  honor  me,  sir,  by  what  you  choose  to  call  your  in- 
terruption,' I  replied.  'Men  of  your  cloth,  cannot  possibly 
intrude  upon  me.  I  am  too  devoted  to  the  cause  of  bravery 
and  devotion;  for  I  too  am  a  soldier — in  the  battle  of  life — to 
give  aught  but  the  right  hand  of  fellowship  to  heroes  like 
yourself.  Sit  down,  sir,  and  let  us  be  sociable.' 

"  'You  flatter  me  by  your  kind  condescension,'  he  said, 
'  but  on  first  observing  you,  I  realized  that  there  was  a  bond 
of  sympathy  between  us,  far  stronger  than  the  tie  of  which 
you  speak — the  true  lover  of  books  is  a  friend  and  comrade  in 
arms  of  every  other  ardent  worshipper  at  the  shrine  of  letters. 
I  happened  to  notice  the  title  of  the  volume  which  you  were 
reading,  and  realizing  that  reading  and  appreciation  of  authors 
are  by  no  means  one  and  the  same,  I  stood  watching  with 
much  interest, the  play  of  your  features.  You,  sir,  are  indeed, 
one  of  that  great  brotherhood  of  kindred  spirits  who  do  not 
read  authors,  but  in  whose  lives  their  authors  live  again — 
whose  souls  are  permeated  by  the  souls  of  those  choice  spirits 
whose  fraternal  hands  reach  out  from  the  shadowy  past,  to 
lead  us  like  little  children  up  into  that  rosy  heaven  of  romance 
and  sentiment  which  they  created.  I  assure  you  sir,  that  had 
not  my  brief  study  of  your  face  been  satisfactory  to  me,  I 
should  have  left  the  room  as  quietly  as  I  entered  it,  and  with- 
out disturbing  you.' 

"'You  are  certainly  very  complimentary,'  I  answered, 
'and  if  you  are  sincere  in  what  you  say,  you  may  be  sure  that 
the  pleasure  of  acquaintance  is  mutual.  I  am  Dr.  William 
Weymouth,  of  Chicago,  and  a  physician  by  profession.  Hav- 
ing been  called  to  this  little  town  on  a  professional  visit,  I  had 
expected  to  return  by  the  three  o'clock  express,  but  some 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  293. 

accident  or  other  has  prevented  the  arrival  of  the  train  and  I 
am  compelled  to  wait  for  the  next  one,  which,  I  understand, 
does  not  pass  through  here  until  six  o'clock  this  evening-. 
I  selected  this  quaint  old  hotel  as  a  pleasanter  place  to  wait 
than  the  station,  and  was  killing-  time  as  best  I  might,  while 
waiting-.  As  you  may  imagine,  sir,  your  company  is  not  only 
welcome,  but  doubly  agreeable  because  of  the  similarity  of 
literary  tastes  which  I  think  we  must  possess — judging-  from 
your  remarks/ 

"  '  How  appropriate  it  was,'  said  my  new  friend,  '  for  you 
to  sit  by  this  open  fire-place  and  dream  away  the  hours  while 
waiting-,  with  that  kindest  and  most  sentimental  of  bachelors 
— Ik  Marvel.  Ah  me!  what  tender  memories  the  sig-htof  that 
book  invokes !  No  other  admirer  among-  all  his  thousands 
and  thousands  of  readers,  ever  revelled  in  those  sad,  sweet 
reveries  as  I  once  did. 

"  '  'Twas  but  yesterday,  it  seems — and  yet  how  long-  ago 
it  really  was!  Here  am  I,  in  the  evening-  of  life — for  I  am  long- 
past  my  three  score  years  and  ten — with  the  damp  of  the 
dew  of  life's  morning  still  on  my  ag-ed  brain,  the  scent  of  the 
blossoms  of  those  early  and  happy  days  still  in  my  shrivelled 
nostrils!  Alas!  why  could  not  one's  body  be  always  young-, 
as  well  as  may  his  heart  and  mind  ?  What  pleasure  of  sense, 
what  enjoyment  of  the  intellect,  what  ambition,  is  not  as  keen 
within  me  as  in  those  days  of  old — as  keen  as  the  eag-er  hound 
on  the  trail  of  his  quarry? 

"  'Doctor,  they  say  that  the  old,  see  not  with  the  eye, 
taste  not  with  the  tongue,  hear  not  with  the  ear  of  youth — 

"  'Tis  false,  my  friend !  The  eye  is  no  less  keen,  the  taste 
no  less  acute,  the  ear  no  less  alert  than  of  yore — but  there 
remains  very  little  of  the  light  of  day  to  see  by,  small  store  of 
the  novelties  of  taste  to  titillate  the  tong-ue,  and  no  new  notes 
in  the  music  of  life — to  call  forth  the  vibrating-  response  of 
the  senses.  Benumbed?  Ah  no! — wearied,  that  is  all,  and 
were  it  not  for  books,  there  would  be  naught  in  life  worth 
the  trouble  of  living.' 

"'Ah!'  I  exclaimed  to  myself,  'my  waiting-  is  not  going 
to  be  so  weary  and  profitless  as  I  thought.  I  have  caught  a 
character,  if  I  mistake  not,  and  characters  are  the  only 


294  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

thing's  in  life  that  are  really  worth  studying- — save,  of  course, 
the  phenomena  of  disease;  which  is  often  a  distinction  with- 
out a  difference.' 

"I  had  noted  with  some  interest  that  our  introduction 
was  one-sided — the  old  man  had  not  as  yet  told  me  his  name. 
But  my  experience  in  character  study  has  taught  me  that  the 
best  way  to  develop  a  character  is  to  allow  it  to  develop  itself 
—along  its  own  lines — so  I  was  content  to  await  my  com- 
panion's pleasure. 

"'Well,  sir,'  I  said,  'you  have  expressed  views  which 
would  be  considered  quite  novel  by  the  average  man.  I  must 
confess,  however,  that  I  entertain  ideas  quite  similar  to  your 
own — especially  in  the  matter  of  books.  I,  too,  am  a  firm 
believer  in  the  view  that  books  are  our  best  friends.  The 
lover  of  books,  if  he  has  the  opportunity  of  indulging  his 
tastes,  is  the  only  truly  happy  man.  He  never  lacks  friends; 
he  never  suffers  from  ennui ;  he  is  never  weary  of  life — for 
the  world  still  holds  fair  hopes,  even  after  he  has  exhausted 
his  very  existence,  in  search  of  knowledge  or  in  intellectual 
dissipation.  His  resources  are  boundless — he  possesses 
wealth  beside  which  Monte  Cristo's  was  as  a  farthing-  unto 
the  resources  of  the  Bank  of  England.  Let  him  be  as  profli- 
gate as  he  may;  let  him  exhaust  the  largest  library  ever 
gathered  together,  and  there  is  still  a  veritable  Golconda  of 
intellectual  riches  beyond  him.  To  him,  there  is  no  end — 
"infinity"  is  his  soul's  delight,  and  the  "unknown"  is  his 
heaven. ' 

"  '  Your  power  of  delineation  of  your  own  feelings  is  cer- 
tainly very  remarkable,'  said  the  old  man,  'None  but  a  man  of 
the  highest  emotional  susceptibility,  and  a  keen  insight  into 
other  hearts  as  well  as  his  own,  could  so  graphically  express 
himself.  You  have  apparently  digressed  somewhat  from  the 
routine  of  your  professional  life,  to  cull  some  of  the  fragrant 
flowers  of  the  literary  garden  through  which  you  have  evi- 
dently passed.  It  is  a  pity  that  doctors,  as  a  class,  do  not  do 
more  in  interpreting  the  emotional  and  sentimental  side  of  life 
than  they  do.  Literature  would  be  better  and  medicine  none 
the  worse,  were  there  more  literary  doctors — and,  by  the  way, 
I  surmise  that  you  may  be  something  of  a  Utcrateur  yourself.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  295 

"  'Why,  not  exactly,'  I  replied,  'I  have  hardly  the  con- 
ceit of  believing-  that  I  rank  as  even  a  dabbler  in  literary 
pursuits.  I  confess  that  I  have  traces  of  ink  in  my  blood,  but 
I  manage  to  keep  it  from  breaking-  out,  save — as  we  say  in 
dermatolog-ical  parlance — in  the  form  of  a  few  superficial  and 
isolated  lesions,  from  time  to  time.' 

"  '  You  do  yourself  an  injustice,  lam  quite  sure,'  said  my 
new  and  indulg-ent  friend — indulg-ent  because  new,  of  course. 
'Even  thoug-h  you  may  not  have  invaded  the  realms  of  the 
scribbler  to  any  extent,  you  certainly  have  the  true  spirit  of 
the  author,  and  can  appreciate  all  the  varying-  lig-hts  and 
shades  of  human  life — which,  after  all,  is  the  fountain  of  lit- 
erary inspiration.  Oh,  humanity!  humanity !— thou  Heli- 
conian rill  from  which  all  the  literary  lig-hts,  throug-h  all  the 
ag-es,  have  drawn  their  inspiration!  What  study  could  be 
grander,  what  more  soul-inspiring-  than  that  of  thee? — And, 
my  dear  doctor,  to  revert  back  to  the  qualifications  of  your 
o\vn  profession — what  more  faithful  student  or  talented  de- 
lineator of  human  nature  than  the  true  physician? — and  who 
has  equal  opportunities?' 

"  'Well,'  I  said,  'I  appreciate  the  implied  compliment  all 
the  more,  because  of  its  evident  sincerity,  but  I  am  neverthe- 
less tempted  to  put  it  to  the  test.' 

"  'As  you  like,  my  dear  doctor — as  you  like,'  replied  my 
interesting-  discovery.  'I  fancy  I  divine  your  intentions. 
You  have  thoroug-hly  appreciated  the  fact  that  our  introduc- 
tion was  a  little  lop-sided,  and  you  feel  that  it  would  be  not 
only  fair,  but  interesting-,  to  know  something-  more  definite 
regfarding-  myself.' 

"  'Well,  I  declare,  sir! 'said  I,  'You  seem  to  be  something- 
of  a  mind  reader  in  your  way.  I  was  thinking-  that  very  thing-. 
I  took  no  particular  exception  to  your  apparent  reticence  how- 
ever. My  own  life  is  of  necessity  an  open  book,  in  all  that 
does  not  concern  the  secrets  of  others,  but  I  nevertheless  ap- 
preciate the  fact  that  many  persons  have  g-ood  and  sufficient 
reasons  for  conservatism  in  conversing-  about  themselves. 
I  can  readily  conceive  that  a  man  as  intellig-ent  as  I  believe 
you  to  be,  mig-ht  have  perfectly  leg-itimate  and  logical  reasons 
for  reservation  in  his  confidences  with  an  entire  strang-er  like 


296  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

myself- — reasons  too,  that  are  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
highest  degree  of  self-respect  and  moral  integrity.' 

"  '  To  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,  my  dear  sir/  replied 
my  companion,  '  I  was  purposely  reticent,  and  for  several 
reasons.  In  the  first  place,  I  wished  to  study  you  further, 
before  I  allowed  you  to  study  me,  and  in  the  second  place,  I 
desired  to  formulate  an  opinion  as  to  your  capacity  of  appre- 
ciation of  what  must  be  either  a  long  story  or  nothing.  I 
presume  you  have  already  concluded  that  I  am  somewhat  of 
an  odd  fish— there,  there!  don't  blush  sir!  I  take  it  as  a  com- 
pliment. 

"  '  I  have  no  objection  to  being  made  a  character  study— 
ah!  mind-reading  again,  am  I?1  said  he,  noting  my  rather 
amused  smile.  'I  have,  however,  no  ambition  to  be  the  sub- 
ject of  an  amateur  psychological  study  by  every  curious 
oddity-seeker  with  whom  I  chance  to  come  in  contact.  I  am, 
nevertheless,  not  unwilling  to  lay  myself  bare  to  the  intel- 
lectual scalpel  of  a  man  of  your  scientific  training  and  literary 
tastes;  hence,if  you  wish  it,  I  will  assist  you  further  in  killing 
time — by  giving  you  a  history  and  analysis  of  one  of  the 
happiest  yet  most  unfortunate  of  mortals — myself.  I  am  a 
man  whose  misfortunes  would  make  the  everlasting  fame  of 
a  second  Hugo — for  Jean  Valjean's  unhappy  life  was  a  path- 
way strewn  with  roses,  beside  mine  own  pitiful  lot.  And  yet, 
the  mind  being  superior  to  the  flesh — yea,  the  king  of  the 
Universe — I  have  been,  and  am,  the  happiest  man  you  ever 
knew. 

" '  My  misery  has  been  my  joy,  my  misfortunes  my 
keenest  happiness,  my  afflictions  have  brought  me  nearer  and 
yet  nearer  to  the  heroes  of  romance — nearer  and  yet  nearer 
that  oblivion  of  earthly  surroundings  which  is  the  universal 
panacea  for  all  human  ills. 

' '  My  history  will  doubtless  interest  you,  as  a  thoughtful 
student  of  psychology.  Being  a  physician,  you  should  be  able 
to  appreciate  the  pleasure  of  pain,  the  exalted  bliss  of  misery 
and  the  satisfaction  of  disappointment,  which  are  the  lot  of 
but  one  human  being — the  slave  of  passion. 

"  '  You  behold  in  me,  a  man  who  has  been  not  only  a  slave, 
but  a  veritable  martyr,  to  his  passions — a  man  who  has  sub- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  297 

verted  all  the  laws  of  nature, to  the  working's  of  his  own  sub- 
lime, yet  evil,  destiny.  Your  philosophy  says  that  passions 
consume  like  fire,  fast  or  slow,  according-  as  they  are  fanned  by 
cyclone  or  zephyr.  You  see  before  you  one  in  whom  all  the 
evil  passions  of  hell,  have  burned  upon  the  altar  of  destiny  for 
three  and  seventy  years;  fanned  into  a  warm  and  cheering 
g-low  by  the  g-entle  breezes  of  prosperity;  blown  into  fierce 
and  all-consuming-  torrents  of  corroding  flame  by  the  roug-h 
g-ales  of  adversity;  yet  behold  the  man! — a  relic  of  a  more 
enduring-  g-eneration;  still  strong-  of  intellect,  vigorous  of 
body,  and  passionate  of  both  mind  and  heart. 

"I  often  wonder,  sir,  if  I  am  not  a  modern  and  successful 
wearer  of  the  mantle  of  that  phantom-chasing,  sentimental 
old  marauder — Ponce  de  Leon.  And  when  I  thus  wonder,  I 
tremble,  for,  when  my  strength  of  body  begins  to  lag  behind 
my  fierce  and  uncontrollable  passions,  I  will  get  a  taste  of 
eternal  punishment  before  my  time!  Living  passions  and  a 
dead  body — ye  gods!' 

"  'And  now  for  my  auto-biography, — 

"  '  Pardon  the  interruption, '  I  said,  '  but  before  you  begin 
your  story,  let  us  partake  of  the  cup  that  cheers.  Our 
boniface  makes  a  most  excellent  and  praiseworthy  beverage 
in  the  way  of  toddy;  I  will  call  him — and,  while  awaiting  his 
pleasure,  we  will  partake  of  a  confidential  smoke  together. 
Try  one  of  these  cigars,  sir,  they  are  really  excellent.' 

"'I  thank  you  for  your  kindly  courtesy,'  replied  the 
old  man,  '  but  your  well-meant  invitation  would  result  dis- 
astrously to  your  proposed  character  study — in  which  I  am 
to  act  as  my  own  delineator.  I  have  already  informed  you 
that  I  am  a  man  of  strong  passions  and  overpowering  emotions. 
In  such  an  organization  as  mine,  there  is  room  for  but  one 
impulse,  one  dominating  passion,  at  a  time.  Conflicts  of 
passionate  emotions  there  may  be,  but  one  must  become 
dominant.  I  am  already  familiar  with  the  liquid  happiness — 
the  combined  distillation  of  heaven  and  hell — which  is  con- 
cocted by  mine  host.  As  for  your  cigar — well,  it  speaks  for 
itself — saying  which  he  deeply  inhaled  the  grateful  aroma  of 
the  fresh  weed  that  I  was  in  the  act  of  lighting. — 'But  you 
wish  to  hear  a  sketch  of  my  life  and — well,  what  you  doctors, 


298  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

I  believe,  call  a  clinical  demonstration  of  some  of  its  phases, 
would  hardly  satisfy  you.  Liquor  or  tobacco  would — but  you 
will  understand  me  better  when  you  have  heard  my  story.' 

"Drawing"  his  chair  closer  to  the  fire,  and  unconsciously 
placing-  himself  in  the  light  of  the  blazing-  log's  in  such  a  posi- 
tion that  his  picturesqueness  was  increased— if  such  a  thing- 
were  possible — the  old  man  beg-an  his  interesting-  story  of  his 
storm-tossed  life.— 

" '  My  name  is  Charles  Sturtevant.  I  was  born  in  the 
state  of  New  York,  in  one  of  the  counties  situated  not  far  from 
the  great  metropolis — New  York  City.  My  father  was  one 
of  the  old  Knickerbocker  stock  of  the  Van  Sturtevants,  who 
wrere  among  the  early  pioneers  that  settled  in  New  York  City 
and  its  vicinity.  The  Sturtevants — for  the  family  dropped 
its  aristocratic  prefix  after  its  transplantation  to  healthy 
republican  soil — were  among-  the  most  distinguished  and  blue- 
blooded  scions  of  the  nobility  of  their  native  land.  Much  of 
their  old  aristocratic  bearing  was  transplanted  to  this  country 
with  them,  yet  there  was  never  a  more  patriotically  American 
family.  My  grandfather  fought  all  through  the  war  for 
American  independence,  and  my  father  was  a  gallant  soldier 
in  that  later  struggle  with  the  mother  country — the  war  of 
1812.  You  see,  doctor,  there  has  been  no  lack  of  heroic  blood 
in  the  family. 

"  '  It  had  always  been  traditional  among  the  Sturtevants, 
that  the  blue  family  blood  was  admixed  with  a  fiery  vein  of 
impulsiveness  and  hot-headness — indeed,  there  was  a  shadow 
of  suspicion  that  madness  had  appeared  among  us  in  differ- 
ent generations.  Be  that  as  it  may,  wherever  was  found  a 
Sturtevant,  there  also  might  be  found  a  "Hot-spur" — indeed, 
impulsive  dare-deviltry,  rather  than  discretion,  has  character- 
ized the  family  so  far  back  that  "the  memory  of  man  runneth 
not  to  the  contrary."  My  father  upheld  the  family  traditions 
most  consistently — I  have  never  met  a  man  of  so  violent  and 
hasty  a  temper. 

" '  My  mother  was  of  the  old  Puritan  stock — a  lily,  en- 
grafted on  our  fiery  family  tree.  She  was  of  that  calm,  placid, 
dignified  type  of  woman,  of  which  martyrs,  saints  and  angels 
have  been  made  from  time  immemorial.  That  she  was  her- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  299 

self,  something-  of  a  martyr,  in  the  new  environment  which 
surrounded  her  after  her  marriage  to  my  father,  is  probably 
not  too  much  to  say — but  if  she  ever  revealed  the  fact  or  com- 
plained, it  never  came  to  my  knowledge. 

"  '  Notwithstanding1  his  fiery  temper,however,  my  father, 
during-  the  intervals  of  calm  that  succeeded  the  frequent 
g-usts  of  passion  that  made  my  mother's  life  miserable,  was 
not  unappreciative  of  her  sweet  and  placid  disposition.  Nor 
was  he  unmindful  of  his  own  shortcoming's — many  a  time 
when  I  was  a  child, he  took  me  upon  his  knee  and  placing-  his 
hand  upon  my  curly  head  said  to  me — "  My  child,  you  must 
try  and  be  like  your  dear  mother — she  is  an  example  that  I 
hope  you  will  always  follow.  When  you  g-et  to  be  a  man — as 
you  will,  all  too  soon — you  must  remember  your  father  as  a 
man  whose  heart  was  naturally  kind,  but  whose  evil  passions 
were  a  curse  to  himself  and  those  he  loved,  his  whole  life  long-. 
Your  mother  is  an  ang-el,  and  I  hope  you  have  inherited  her 
sweet  nature,  and  not  that  of  your  tempest-tossed  father." 

"  'Ah !  my  friend — how  often  have  I  thoug-ht  of  my 
father's  words  wrhen  the  fitful  storms  of  waywrard  and  uncon- 
trollable passion  have  racked  my  own  sensitive  spirit  to  the 
last  thrill  of  emotion — alas!  and  enjoyment. 

"  'Poor  old  man!  He  did  not  realize  that  the  Sturtevant 
blood  that  pulsed  within  me,  contained  a  hereditary  taint  of 
passion  which  no  infusion  of  calm  Puritan  blood,  and  no 
reasoning-  of  a  Sturtevant  mind,  could  ever  eradicate. 

"  'What  a  remorseless  law  is  that  of  heredity!  It  pur- 
sues us  like  a  veritable  Nemesis — does  it  not,  doctor? 

"  'But  the  halknving-  influence  of  my  mother's  example, 
and  the  repression  of  childish  indiscretions  by  her  ever 
watchful  care  and  kindly  correction,  kept  the  Sturtevant 
blood  calm  and  latent  in  me  until  my  boyhood  was  well  nig-h 
past,  and  I  was  sent  awray  to  school. 

"  'I  know  no,t  whether  it  was  the  removal  of  the  restrain- 
ing- influences  that  my  g-entle  mother  had  infused  into  my 
home  life,  or  because  my  dormant  passions  wTanted  but  excite- 
ment of  the  proper  sort,  to  bring-  them  into  pernicious  activity, 
but  my  nature  was  transformed  completely,  soon  after  enter- 
ing" school. 


300  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'I  had  never  had  boy  companions  before — my  sole 
playmate  and  school  fellow  having  been  the  little  daughter  of 
a  neighbor. 

"  '  Mina  Van  der  Hayde  was  my  junior  by  several  years, 
and  was  one  of  those  sweet,  sensitive  children,  with  whom 
quarrels  were  out  of  the  question.  She  wras  accustomed  to 
look  upon  me  as  a  protector,  mentor,  guide  and  companion, 
while  I — well,  I  lavished  all  the  wealth  of  a  pure,  undivided 
and  unselfish  boyish  affection  upon  that  dear  little  girl. 

"  'As  Mina's  father's  estate  immediately  adjoined  ours, 
it  was  but  natural  that  we  children  should  have  been  sharers 
in  each  other's  games  and  studies — we  even  had  the  same 
private  tutors.  Our  fathers  had  been  friends  as  boys,  long 
before  the  Revolution,  and  their  friendship  had  become  still 
more  firmly  cemented  by  their  mutuality  of  interests  after 
the  independence  of  the  colonies  was  assured.  Both  of  the 
stalwart  old  Knickerbockers  looked  forward  with  pleasur- 
able anticipation  to  the  time  when  their  families  should  be 
linked  together  in  stronger  bonds  than  those  of  friendship — 
bonds  that  Mina  and  I  alone  could  provide.  My  mother,  too, 
looked  with  kindly  eye  upon  the  agreeable  future  which  the 
mutual  affection  existing  between  the  only  children  of  the  two 
old  families  seemed  likely  to  bring. 

"  'You  can  imagine  the  shock  to  my  delicate,  hothouse- 
nurtured  sensibility,  when  I  found  myself  thrown  upon  my 
own  self-reliance,  among  a  large  number  of  boys,  many  of 
whom  were  of  the  hard-fisted,  rough-mannered  type,  char- 
acteristic of  the  middle  class  among  the  old  time  eastern 
settlers. 

'• '  Fisticuffs  was  a  new  and  hard  game  for  me— I  was  not 
the  kind  of  material  of  which  rough-and-ready  boys  are  made. 
There  was  too  much  of  the  game  cock  slumbering  in  me — my 
ancesters  had  felt  the  touch  of  steel — their  fighting  blood  was 
trained  to  the  clash  of  sword  and  crash  of  shot  and  shell. 
The  consequence  was,  that  my  first  trial  at  arms  brought  out 
little  of  the  rough-and-tumble  fighter,  but  much  of  theSturte- 
vant  passion  for  blood-letting. 

"'The  day  of  my  trial  was  not  long  delayed;  the  new 
scholar  at  a  boys'  school  is  not  long  kept  in  suspense — his 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


301 


classification  as  to  pugilistic  merit  is  but  a  question  of  a  few 
days  at  most. 

"  '  I  remember,  as  if  it  were  yesterday,  the  day  on  which 
my  true  nature  was  revealed  to  me. 

'"I  was  rather  large  of 

my  age,  and  one  of  the 
strongest  boys  of  the 
school  was  deputized  to 


"I    BURIED   THE    BLADE    IN    THE    BULLY'S    SIDE!" 

initiate  me  into  the  mysteries  of  boyish  pugilism.  He  played 
his  part  rather  better  than  he  expected — for  I  fancy  he  was 
somewhat  surprised  at  the  result.  A  trivial  pretext  was 
used,  and  before  I  realized  what  was  about  to  happen,  I  was 


302  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

involved  in  a  fight,  which,  with  a  novice  like  myself,  could 
have  but  one  result — I  was  thrown  to  the  ground,  and  found 
myself  flat  upon  my  back,  with  my  opponent  kneeling-  upon 
my  chest  and  trying  to  pound  my  face  to  pieces. 

" '  How  it  happened,  I  never  knew — I  felt  the  waves  of 
hot  blood  surge  up  into  my  head  and  had  the  consciousness  of 
feeling  in  my  pocket  for  my  knife — a  present  from  Mina,  by 
the  way.  I  did  not  afterwards  recollect  finding  and  opening 
the  knife,  but  I  remember,  even  now,  the  grim  satisfaction — 
aye,  the  hilarious  joy,  with  which  I  buried  the  blade  in  the 
bully's  side!  How  I  revelled  in  the  sight  of  the  red  blood,  as 
it  fairly  spurted  out  of  the  wound  and  all  over  me !  How  like 
a  tame  tiger,  is  man!  Gentle  as  a  kitten,  until  the  sight  of 
blood  rouses  the  devil  in  him! 

"  '  The  bully  recovered — I  never  did.  The  scar  upon  his 
body  was  as  nothing,  compared  with  that  upon  my  soul;  the 
human  tiger  had  tasted  blood,  and  his  native  ferocity — the 
ferocity  of  a  long  line  of  hot-headed  warrior  ancestors — had 
come  to  the  surface  of  a  hitherto  tranquil  and  peaceful  nature. 

"  'But  the  arousal  of  the  devil  in  me  was  not  to  be  com- 
pared with  the  discovery  that  the  passion  of  anger  and  the 
revengeful  infliction  of  injury  upon  those  who  offended  me, 
was  a  source  of  pleasurable  gratification.  I  do  not  think  it 
was  the  suffering  I  caused  others,  that  in  after  years  gave  me 
such  keen  enjoyment — it  was  rather  the  sense  of  power  to  do 
injury,  and  the  exaltation  of  the  emotions  incidental  to  my 
outbursts  of  violent  temper,  that  gave  me  pleasure.  I  expe- 
rienced some  gratification,  it  is  true,  in  venting  my  anger 
upon  inanimate  things — but  not  that  keen  and  savage  delight 
which  filled  my  very  soul,  whenever  I  spent  my  passion's 
cruel  fury  upon  my  fellow  creatures! 

"'I  was  not  expelled  from  school  after  my  murderous 
act  of  self-defense — my  assailant  having  recovered  and  the 
provocation  having  been  great,  I  was  severely  disciplined  but 
allowed  to  remain.  My  punishment  was,  however,  easy  to 
bear — for  I  revelled  in  the  pleasurable  memory  of  the  offense 
for  which  it  was  inflicted. 

"  '  I  was  henceforth  a  different  boy — from  a  quiet,  gentle, 
loving  lad,  I  had  become  transformed  into  a  fiery-tempered 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  303 

unreasoning-,  quarrelsome  bull}-.  Of  personal  contests  I  had 
but  few — even  the  over-grown  youths  in  the  hig-her  classes, 
had  not  forgotten  the  result  of  the  first  trial  of  my  courage. 
My  knife  had  been  confiscated,  but  I  had  bought  another, 
which  inspired  even  more  respect  than  the  old  one — for  I 
knew  by  experience,  something-  of  the  advantages  of  a  long 
blade,  when  I  purchased  it.  On  the  rare  occasions  on  which 
I  became  embroiled  in  fig-hts,  my  antagonist  was  really  half- 
whipped  before  the  actual  contest  beg-an — my  classmates  had 
excellent  memories. 

'"Time  went  on,  and  I  was  progressing-  finely  in  my 
studies;  for  I  was  brainy  enoug-h — there  was  no  lack  of  intel- 
lect in  our  family  and  I  had  inherited  my  full  share  of  it.  The 
time  was  drawing1  near  when  I  wras  to  leave  the  preparatory 
school,  and  enter  upon  the  college  career  which  was  my  dear 
mother's  fondest  dream.  I  bade  fair  to  acquit  myself  with 
honor  in  the  final  examinations,  and  was  expectantly  and  im- 
patiently looking-  forward  to  my  anticipated  visit  to  my  home. 
Nor  was  the  prospect  of  seeing-  Mina,  the  least  pleasurable 
feature  of  my  anticipation — absence,  and  the  exaltation  of  the 
emotions  which  had  resulted  from  the  unfortunate  trans- 
formation in  my  mental  character,  had  made  the  memory  of 
my  little  sweetheart  fonder  than  ever.  But  my  affairs  were 
not  to  go  on  so  smoothly  as  I  thought — I  had  reckoned  with- 
out my  new-found,  passionate  and  unreasoning  temper. 

"  '  It  so  happened  that  a  party  of  our  boys  were  preparing 
for  a  football  game,  wrhich  was  to  take  place  between  a  repre- 
sentative team  from  our  school  and  another  from  among  the 
lads  of  the  neighboring  village.  I  had  never  practiced  the 
game  to  any  extent,  but  there  was  a  rough,  hurly-burly 
excitement  about  it,  that  made  my  blood  tingle  whenever  I 
watched  the  boys  at  practice.  During  one  of  the  practice 
games  that  our  boys  had  among  themselves,  one  of  the 
members  of  the  team  sprained  his  ankle,  and  a  volunteer  was 
called  for  to  take  his  place.  I  immediately  offered  myself  as 
the  needed  substitute,  and  although  most  of  the  boys  were 
averse  to  accepting  me  on  account  of  my  horrible  temper, 
they  were  still  more  afraid  to  refuse  me — I  therefore  took  the 
injured  boy's  place. 


304  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  'As  was  usual  with  me,  I  went  into  the  work  with  that 
wild  enthusiasm  which  had  become  a  prominent  feature  of  my 
make-up.  All  went  well  until  I  became  involved  in  a  desper- 
ate "tackle"  with  a  boy  considerably  stronger  than  myself. 
Realizing-  in  an  instant, that  I  was  overmatched,  I  grew  angry, 
and  as  the  blood  mounted  to  my  brain,  I  forgot  myself  and 
struck  my  opponent  on  the  temple.  He  fell  to  the  ground, 
half  senseless,  and  before  I  could  be  prevented,  under  the 
insane  impulse  of  my  delirious  frenzy  I  stamped  upon  his  up- 
turned face  as  he  lay  there  helpless,  again  and  again  !  I 
doubt  not  that  I  would  have  killed  him,  had  not  one  of  the 
boys — my  victim's  brother — struck  me  from  behind  with  a 
cane,  knocking  me  senseless. 

"'The  poor  lad  was  seriously  injured — indeed,  his  life 
was  despaired  of  for  a  time.  My  own  injuries  were,  how- 
ever, trivial,  and  as  soon  as  the  management  of  the  school  had 
time  to  act  upon  the  case,  I  was  sent  home  in  disgrace. 

"  '  I  can  recall,  even  now,  the  feeling  of  pity  which  I  after- 
ward had  for  the  boy  whom  I  had  so  wantonly  injured,  but 
even  my  pity  was  tempered  by  the  pleasurable  recollection  of 
the  savage  enjoyment  that  I  experienced,  while  crushing  his 
helpless  face  beneath  my  feet.  Like  all  pleasurable  expe- 
riences of  early  life,  the  joy  of  indulgence  in  the  passion  of 
anger  left  a  memory  behind  that  tainted  my  whole  after-life. 

"  'I  had  expected  most  severe  punishment  from  my  father, 
when  I  arrived  home  after  my  ignominious  expulsion  from 
school,  but,  much  to  my  astonishment,  his  treatment  of  me 
was  most  tender  and  sympathetic.  He  seemed  to  be  burdened 
with  anxiety  concerning  me  and  showed  not  the  slightest 
disposition  to  severity — he  was,  on  the  contrary,  sad  and 
thoughtful  when  in  my  presence.  He  never  alluded  to  my 
trouble  but  once. — 

"  'One  day,  while  accompanying  him  to  the  little  village 
where  most  of  our  business  was  transacted,  he  turned  to  me 
and  said:  "Charles,  my  son,  it  was  my  intention  to  avoid 
all  allusion  to  the  circumstances  that  compelled  you  to  re- 
turn home,  before  the  completion  of  your  school  curricu- 
lum. Your  mother,  however,  has  convinced  me  that  I  should 
do  less  than  my  duty,  did  I  not  perform  a  father's  part  and 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  305 

advise  you  on  the  subject  of  the  violent  temper  you  have 
latterly  developed.  I  know  my  own  family  failing- — I  know 
you  are  a  Sturtevant — but  I  had  hoped  that  you  might  re- 
semble your  mother's  family, and  escape  the  unfortunate  in- 
heritance with  which  men  of  our  blood  have  had  to  struggle 
for  so  many  generations.  But  the  mischief  has  been  done — 
the  hot  Sturtevant  blood  has  at  last  come  to  the  surface,  and 
you  are  destined  to  suffer  all  your  life,  as  have  suffered  your 
ancestors  before  you.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  reproach  you — 
you  are  the  son  of  your  father,  and,  like  him,  a  child  of  des- 
tiny. But  you  are  young-,  you  have  a  powerful  will;  exert  it, 
and  you  may  be  saved  from  yourself — submit  to  your  violent 
passions,  and,  if  you  escape  disaster,  or  even  ruin,  it  will  be 
throug-h  sheer  g-ood  luck,  and  not  throug-h  equality' of  fate. 
/  have  escaped  ruin,  it  is  true,  but  it  is  to  the  influence  of  your 
dear  mother,  rather  than  to  my  own  self  restraint,  that  the 
credit  is  due.  Behind  you,  my  boy,  looms  up  a  remorseless 
fate,  urging-  you  on,  even  as  the  slave  driver  urg-es  his  helpless 
chattels  ;  before  you  lies  the  g"ulf  of  despair,  and  beyond  that 
yawning-  gulf,  stands — pardon  the  thought,  my  dear  son;  it  is 
terrible  to  think  of,  but  it  must  be  said — the  gallows. 

"kl  have  had,  and  thank  heaven!  I  still  have,  my  good 
angel — yours  awaits  you."  As  he  spoke,  he  waved  his  hand 
toward  the  broad  acres  of  the  house  of  Van  der  Hayde.— 
"See  that  you  do  not  place  a  barrier  between  her  and  your- 
self, that  death  alone  can  surmount. 

'  "  My  son,  reflect  seriously  on  what  I  have  said — I  shall 
never  allude  to  the  subject  again.  I  have  but  a  few  words 
more  to  say :  You  have  experienced  the  misfortune  of  giving 
way  to  but  a  single  passion — beware  lest  you  develop  others. 
You  have  yet  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  far  more  powerful  and 
fascinating  pleasures  of  the  senses,  than  the  gratification  of 
any  emotions  you  have  so  far  experienced.  My  boy,  beware 
the  wiles  of  woman! — beware  the  lure  of  the  cup!  The 
Sturtevant  blood  has  never  done  things  by  halves — it  has  been 
strong  in  its  sentiments  and  emotions;  it  has  been  gigantic 
in  its  vices!  Self-control  is  comparatively  easy,  in  the  pre- 
vention of  indulgences  of  the  passions — it  is,  however,  far 
more  difficult  of  application  as  a  remedy  for  their  cure." 


306  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  I  thought  I  understood  my  father's  meaning1, and  I  cer- 
tainly appreciated  his  heartfelt  advice,  but  I  did  not  then 
realize  its  full  purport.  Not  that  I  feel  regret  that  I  did  not 
follow  his  precept — there  has  been  too  much  pleasure  in  fol- 
lowing his  example.  In  reality,  I  rejoice  that  I  did  not  adhere 
to  the  resolution  I  mentally  made,  to  curb  the  passion  I  had 
already  developed,  and  to  abstain  from  exposure  to  all  influ- 
ences that  might  tend  to  develop  other  passions — still  more 
disastrous. 

"'My  misfortune  —  or  misconduct,  if  you  please  —  at 
school,  undoubtedly  gave  my  sweet  mother  unbounded  pain, 
but  aside  from  the  air  of  sadness  and  a  certain  troubled  ex- 
pression in  her  eyes  with  which  she  occasionally  regarded 
me,  she 'showed  no  outward  evidence  of  anxiety.  Her  silent 
melancholy,  however,  hurt  me  much  more  than  the  harshest 
reproof  could  have  done,  but  my  appreciation  of  her  anxious 
interest  could  only  be  shown  by  an  increased  tenderness 
toward  her — for  I  sincerely  loved  my  patient,  angelic  mother. 
I  have  often  wondered  why  her  gentle  spirit  did  not  quench 
the  fire  of  my  passionate  nature,  even  as  the  gentlest  rain, 
quenches  in  time,  the  hottest  blaze  that  man  may  light. 

"  'And  Mina,  dear,  beautiful  little  Mina !  My  little  sweet- 
heart was  fast  budding  into  womanhood — a  fact  of  which  I 
was  as  innocently  unconscious  as  was  she — girls  mature  so 
much  faster  than  their  boyish  playmates.  She  was  to  me, 
the  same  little  Mina  as  of  old.  I  sometimes  fancied  she  noted 
the  great  change  in  me,  of  which  I  was  myself  all  too  keenly 
conscious — if  so,  however,  she  made  no  sign — she  was  even 
kinder,  more  sympathetic  and  lovelier  than  ever. 

"'Under  the  kind  and  affectionate  ministrations  of  the 
two  beings  whom  I  loved  best  on  earth,  I  actually  regained  a 
semblance  of  my  old  self.  The  storm-tossed  ship  of  my 
passions  was  in  a  safe  harbor.  Do  I  regret  that  my  peaceful 
state  of  mind  did  not  last?  I  fear  not — the  negative  pleasure 
of  that  contented  period  of  my  life  is  hardly  a  memory  now; 
it  has  been  blotted  out  by  the  more  vivid  enjoyment  of  my 
devouring  passions,  experienced  so  many  times  since  those 
quiet  days  at  home. 

"'My  sojourn  at  home  was  hardly  a  vacation;  it  was  a 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  307 

continuance  of  my  studies.  My  father  employed  a  private 
tutor  for  me — and  a  kind  old  man  my  teacher  was,  God  bless 
him ! — to  finish  my  preparation  for  college,  and  well  did  that 
dear  old  man  fulfil  his  duty.  Mr.  Marshton  was  one  of  the 
kindest  and  most  considerate  of  men;  he  was,  moreover,  one 
of  the  few  persons  who  had  control  over  me.  Whether  my 
natural  fire  was  tempered  by  an  hereditary  strain  of  the 
discipline  of  the  soldier,  I  know  not — but  I  certainly  obeyed 
my  teacher  to  the  letter,  and  he  never  had  the  slightest  cause 
of  complaint  against  me.  Indeed,  he  was  more  than  compli- 
mentary regarding  my  progress. 

"  'The  time  of  my  departure  for  college  came  only  too 
soon.  I  had  passed  my  entrance  examinations  several  weeks 
before,  and  with  them  out  of  the  way,  I  had  the  opportunity 
to  fully  enjoy  the  remainder  of  my  stay  at  home,  and  I 
assure  you  that  I  took  advantage  of  it.  Much  of  my  time  was 
spent  with  Mina,  and  the  days  went  by  in  unalloyed  pleasure. 
But  happiness  is  usually  short-lived,  and  mine  was  no  excep- 
tion to  the  rule — the  day  on  which  I  was  to  leave  for  my  new 
career,  arrived  before  I  realized  that  I  was  really  to  depart 
from  home  again. 

"  'I  was  wiser  than  when  I  first  went  away  to  school.  I 
understood  myself  better,  at  least,  although  I  was  not  much 
wiser  in  worldliness  than  when,  as  an  innocent  boy  in  a 
roundabout,  I  left  for  the  scene  of  my  first  education  in  self- 
knowledge.  I  understood  the  feeling  of  sadness  with  which 
my  parents  bade  me  good-bye,  however,  far  better  than  at 
my  previous  departure.  Nothing  was  said  regarding  my 
former  school  experience,  but  I  divined  intuitively  what  was 
meant  when  my  father  said — "I  expect  great  things  of  you, 
Charles;  you  have  only  to  exert  your  power  of  will, and  the 
honors  of  your  classes  will  certainly  be  yours." 

"'My  mother  was  too  overcome  with  emotion  to  say 
much,  but,  as  she  kissed  me  good-bye  she  whispered — 
"  Charley,  my  son,  be  very  careful,  and  I  shall  have  reason 
to  be  proud  of  you;  be  master  of  yourself  and  you  will  be 
master  of  others." 

"  'Mina  did  not  come  to  see  me  off — we  had  bidden  each 
other  good-bye  at  her  own  home,an  hour  before  the  expected 


308  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

arrival  of  the  stage  that  was  to  bear  me  away.  I  did  not 
want  that  sweet  farewell  to  be  witnessed  by  others,  who,  I 
was  sure,  could  not  understand  nor  sympathize  with,  all  that 
it  implied.  Little  was  said  between  us — little  was  necessary 
to  the  intuitive  understanding-  of  each  other's  feeling's,  but 
when  we  parted,  it  was  in  the  fond  hope  that  when  I  returned, 
after  college  days  were  over,  we  should  never  part  again  as 
long  as  we  should  live. 

"'College  days  are  everywhere  so  much  alike,  that  the 
experience  of  one  young  man  is  very  nearly  that  of  every 
other — there  would  be  little  to  say  of  my  own  had  I  been  as 
other  young  men.  With  the  advice  of  my  father  still  fresh  in 
my  mind,  I  did  exercise  self-control  to  this  extent — I  did  not 
expose  myself  to  any  influence  that  might  again  arouse  the 
brute  in  me.  I  avoided  all  the  college  games,  and  by  hard 
and  severe  study — wrhich  in  itself  became  almost  a  passion — I 
endeavored  to  keep  myself  within  the  bounds  that  I  alone 
knew  to  be  necessary  to  my  safety. 

" '  On  account  of  the  seclusion  necessitated  by  my  self- 
discipline,  I  was  not  popular  with  my  fellow  students,  and  I 
knew  it.  Living  as  I  did,  the  life  of  a  recluse,  however,  I 
cared  not  for  popularity,  and  as  I  did  not  mingle  with  the 
other  students,  my  unpopularity  did  not  expose  me  to  any 
insolence  that  might  have  aroused  my  violent  temper  before 
I  had  accomplished  the  object  of  my  incessant  mental  labor. 
"  '  I  had  but  one  associate — a  delicate  little  fellow  from 
Boston,  by  the  name  of  Stoddard.  Why  this  young  man  and 
myself  became  attached  to  one  another  I  do  not  know.  I  had 
developed  into  a  strong,  well-knit  youth,  and  had  a  certain 
degree  of  contempt  for  puny  young  fellows.  Stoddard  was 
not  only  puny,  but  the  direct  antithesis  of  myself — delicate, 
sensitive,  and  pliant  to  a  fault,  his  nature  was  totally  unlike 
my  belligerent,  moody,  and  hasty  temperament.  My  young 
friend  had  all  the  refinement  and  poesy  of  the  true  artist,  and 
had  I  been  other  than  I  was,  his  influence  over  me  would  have 
been  productive  of  benefit  to  my  coarser-grained  nature. 
But  the  difference  between  the  artistic  temperament  and  one 
of  coarser  mould  under  the  same  influences,  was  never  so 
well  shown  as  in  our  relations.  The  classics  appealed  to 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


309 


me. 


Stoddard,as  the  rosy  cloudland  in  which  the  higher  emotions 
were  fed  by  the  purity  of  art,  and  warmed  by  the  beams  of 
an  untarnished  soul.  Far  different  was  their  influence  over 
The  clang-  of  Achilles'  armor  fired  my  soul  with  lust 

for  blood ;  excited  my  desire 
for  the  smell  of  powder  and 
the  clash  of  arms!  The 
Paris  of  my  dreams,  needed 
no  apology  for  the  abduction 
of  the  peerless  Helen!  What 
was  the  fall  of  a  dozen 
Troys,  compared  with  the 


A   REVEL    OF    THE    SOUL. 

gratification  of  the  lust  of  a  Paris,  inspired  in  my  heart  by  a 
Homer,  and  fed  by  the  hot  blood  of  a  Sturtevant? 

"  '  The  orgfies  and  cruel  passions  of  Nero  found  their 
responsive  echo  in  my  own  soul.  I  realized  the  enormity  of 
his  crimes,  but  revelled  in  blissful  contemplation  of  their 
description.  The  lions  of  the  carnivals  of  blood  in  which  that 


310  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

vile  monster  indulged,  were  no  fiercer  than  the  beasts  that 
glowered  and  growled  within  my  own  heart — the  blood  that 
flecked  their  jaws  was  not  redder  nor  more  abundant  than 
that  which  bathed  the  victims  of  my  imagination. 

" '  Descriptions  of  bacchanalian  feasts,  were  to  me, 
dreams  of  delight.  I  revelled  with  their  participants,  and 
longed  for  the  opportunity  to  indulge  my  own  fierce  appetites 
— even  as  they  did. 

"  '  My  friend  Stoddard  little  thought  that  our  readings 
of  the  classics  and  martial  ancient  history — he  was  a  most 
charming  reader  and  often  read  aloud  to  me — were  affecting 
his  taciturn  friend  in  such  an  unfortunate  fashion.  He  did  not 
know  that,  when  he  read  to  me,  I  fought  side  by  side  with 
Alexander,  devised  situations  with  Boccaccio,  drank  blood 
with  Nero,  and  imbibed  more  and  stronger  wine  than  ever 
Bacchus  himself  could  have  dreamed  of  ! 

"  'And  our  modern  writers  were  fully  as  disastrous  as 
the  ancient,  in  their  effects  upon  my  peculiar  organization. 
The  beauties  of  Byron's  verse  were  lost  upon  me — in  their 
excitement  of  my  emotions,  I  read  not  Byron — I  lived  Byron. 

*' '  How  aptly  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  said  of  the  man  of 

passion : 

"His  soul,  like  bark  with  rudder  lost, 
On  Passion's  changeful  tide  is  tossed, 
Nor  vice,  nor  virtue,  has  the  power 
Beyond  the  impression  of  the  hour ; 
And  Oh,  when  passion  rules,  how  rare 
The  hours  that  fall  to  virtue's  share  !  " 

"  'I  have  often  thought,  doctor,  that  Scott  himself  knew 
more  of  passion's  sway  than  he  ever  admitted.  A  man  must 
have  felt  the  dominance  of*  passion  to  have  written  those 
lines.  That  Byron  lived  his  own  sentiments  is  certainly 
true — he,  too,  was  a  child  of  destiny,  whose  heredity  was  his 
own  misery — his  own  happiness — and  the  world's  good  for- 
tune. 

"  'From  what  I  have  said,  you  can  imagine  the  result.  I 
became  an  impractical  dreamer;  I  lived  among  the  clouds  of 
romance,  in  the  midst  of  the  soft  haze  of  sensuality — my 
dreams  were  my  dissipation,  even  as  my  books  were  my  life- 
work. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  311 

"  'Fortunately  for  me,  the  indulgence  in  my  violent  pas- 
sions was  a  phantasy  of  the  brain  as  yet — no  opportunities 
arose  for  the  practical  application  of  my  excited  fancies. 
Indeed,  I  doubt  whether  I  should  have  embraced  such  oppor- 
tunity had  it  arisen,  unless  forced  upon  me  by  some  circum- 
stance in  which  physical  impressions  of  passion  were  una- 
voidable. 

"'There  was  no  immediate  practical  harm  done,  there- 
fore. I  dreamed  of  an  elysium  wherein  female  beauty,  the 
fragrant  fumes  of  the  oriental  chibouk,  and  the  exhilarating- 
effects  of  the  glowing-  wine,  alternated  with  deeds  of  blood — 
with  clash  of  sword,  the  roll  of  drum  and  the  rattle  of 
musketry — without  any  imminent  danger  either  to  my  life 
or  morals.  The  disastrous  effects,  however,  were  none  the 
less  real  because  they  were  only  to  be  realized  through  the 
actual  experiences  of  my  after-life.  My  dreams  of  the  harem, 
of  war,  of  wine,  woman,  song,  and  the  smoke  and  roar  of 
battle,  developed  the  budding  instincts  of  my  ancestral  blood, 
into  a  towering  tropic  blossom  that  o'ershadowed  all  my 
future  life  with  misery;  illumined  it  with  joy — with  soul- 
depressing  disaster  and  rose-colored  happiness  combined. 

"  '  During  the  four  years  of  my  college  course,  I  spent  a 
portion  of  each  of  my  vacations  at  home.  My  visits  were 
pleasant  enough,  save  that  Mina  was  not  there  to  welcome 
me — her  father  had  sent  her  abroad  to  study  art  and  music, 
in  which  she  was  especially  gifted.  But  I  knew  that  she  had 
not  forgotten  me — her  occasional  letters  would  have  reassured 
me,  even  though  my  own  heart  had  not  inspired  me  with  the 
confidence  of  a  first  affection. 

"'It  might  seem  strange  to  you,  doctor,  that  I  should 
have  had  the  same  frank  and  boyish  affection  for  Mina, 
during  the  process  of  evolution  of  my  evil  passions  I  have 
described  to  you,  as  in  my  early  boyhood's  days — yet  I 
did  retain  it  nevertheless.  My  feelings  toward  her  were 
fortunately  too  exalted  to  become  tainted  with  my  new-found 
emotions — she  was  never  less  than  a  divinity  to  me,  through 
all  the  storms  that  agitated  my  centers  of  ideation. 

"  '  My  final  examinations  at  last  arrived,  and  I  was  proud 
to  be  able  to  inform  my  father  that  I  was  one  of  the  honor 


312  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

men  of  the  class.  I  received  medals  for  my  proficiency  in 
the  classics  and  English  literature — a  fact  which  especially 
delighted  my  father,  as  he  was  himself  an  ardent  lover  of 
literature — both  ancient  and  modern.  My  friend  Stoddard, 
was  likewise  the  recipient  of  special  honors — as  might  have 
been  expected.  Indeed,  it  was  to  him  that  I  owed  much  of 
my  own  success — a  fact  I  freely  acknowledged,  but  which 
he  modestly  refused  to  believe. 

"  'Everything  seemed  to  be  favorable  to  my  happiness — 
I  had  won  glory  at  college,  my  parents  were  well  pleased  with 
me,  and,  best  of  all,  Mina  was  waiting  for  me.  As  my  father 
was  quite  feeble,  he  had  decided  to  have  me  assume  the  man- 
agement of  his  estate  and  was  desirous  of  having  me  marry, 
immediately  on  my  return  from  college.  Mina  had  returned 
from  Europe — having  finished  her  studies — and  there  was 
no  obstacle  to  the  consummation  of  my  father's  wishes  and 
my  own  fair  hopes. 

"  'Commencement  day — that  day  of  all  days  in  the  lives  of 
college  men — at  length  arrived.  My  parents  and  friends  were 
present  to  see  me  graduate,  and  to  say  that  I  was  happy, would 
be  a  mild  expression  of  my  true  feelings.  My  only  regret 
was,  that  Mina  could  not  be  there — her  father  was  ill,  and  she 
felt  that  she  could  not  leave  him,  even  for  me,  as  she  said  in  a 
pretty  little  note  she  sent  by  my  mother. 

"  '  My  parents  wished  me  to  return  home  with  them,  but 
I  had  promised  to  attend  a  farewell  dinner,  to  be  given  by  one 
of  the  wealthy  members  of  the  class  the  next  evening,  hence 
I  was  obliged  to  remain  until  the  day  after  that  affair.  Would 
that  I  had  known  what  the  result  would  be! — And  yet — 

"  '  I  fancied  my  father  had  some  misgivings  in  leaving  me 
behind — however,  he  said  nothing.  I  promised  faithfully  to 
return  home  at  the  earliest  possible  moment  after  my  social 
duty  to  my  classmate  had  been  fulfilled,  and  after  wishing 
me  a  pleasant  time  at  the  coming  dinner,  my  parents  left  for 
home. 

"  '  The  dinner  was  much  the  same  as  is  usual,even  to-day, 
among  college  boys.  A  congregation  of  young  men  whose 
labors  are  over,  and  who  are  trying  to  make  up  for  time  lost 
in  the  matter  of  social  dissipation,  is  about  the  same  every- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  313 

where  and  at  all  times.  There  is  a  certain  proportion  of 
boisterous  fun,  and  a  greater  proportion  of  intoxication,  on 
the  part  of  young-  men  who,  perhaps,  have  never  drunk  a  drop 
of  stimulants  before.  This  particular  dinner  was  no  excep- 
tion to  the  rule,  and  had  its  full  share  of  hilarity. 

"  '  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  my  baptism  of  fire  occurred 
— I  was  induced  to  indulge  in  both  tobacco  and  liquor.  Never 
shall  I  forget  the  effect  of  that  first  indulgence — my  dreams 
of  bacchanalian  pleasures  were  as  nothing,  compared  with  the 
reality !  I  seemed  to  be  transformed  into  a  different  being" — 
the  world  seemed  to  unfold  before  my  mental  vision  like  a 
wonderful  and  beautiful  panorama — I  was  in  the  seventh 
heaven  of  delight !  It  seemed  to  me  that  there  was  no  feat  too 
arduous — no  adventure  too  hazardous,  for  me  to  attempt.  I 
had  developed  a  marvellous  egotism  and  self-confidence.  For 
the  first  time  since  the  beginning  of  my  college  career,  I  was 
assimilated  to  my  surroundings — I  became  as  boisterous  as 
the  rest. 

"  'I  have  already  told  you  of  my  unpopularity  with  my 
fellow  students.  I  realized  it  myself,  more  keenly  than  ever, 
before  the  dinner  was  over — one  of  my  classmates,  when 
called  upon  for  a  speech,  embraced  the  opportunity  to  make 
some  insulting  remarks  with  regard  to  my  conduct  during 
my  college  course.  To  make  matters  worse,  he  made  several 
sarcastic  allusions  to  a  slight  lameness  with  which  my  poor 
little  friend  Stoddard  was  afflicted. 

"  '  Even  had  I  been  perfectly  sober,  I  would  not  have 
tolerated  such  treatment — in  the  condition  I  was  in,  I  cer- 
tainly was  not  to  be  trifled  with.  I  dashed  a  glass  of  wine 
in  the  fellow's  face,  and  in  an  instant,we  became  engaged  in  a 
desperate  fight. 

"'We  were  separated  by  our  companions,  before  any 
serious  injury  had  been  sustained  on  either  side,  but  the 
affair  did  not  end  there— I  received  a  challenge  before  I  left 
the  room  at  the  conclusion  of  the  dinner,  which  challenge  I 
promptly  accepted.  One  of  my  classmates  volunteered  to 
officiate  as  my  second,  and  a  duel  with  pistols  was  arranged 
for  the  following  morning. 

"  '  The  affair  came  off  as  planned,  and  my  antagonist 


314  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

was  carried  from  the  field  with  a  ball  through  his  right 
lung. 

"  '  Knowing  that  the  laws  against  duelling  were  very 
severe  at  that  time,  I  fled  to  New  York  City,  and  found 
refuge  in  a  by  no  means  aristocratic  section  of  the  metropolis 
— intending  to  remain  in  seclusion  until  it  was  safe  to  return 
to  my  home.  I  afterward  heard  that  my  antagonist  had 
recovered  from  the  immediate  effects  of  his  wound — only  to 
succumb  to  some  remote  resulting  trouble  some  months 
later. 

"'I  succeeded  in  letting  my  father  know  my  where- 
abouts, so  that  I  was  amply  supplied  with  money — indeed,  I 
had  more  than  was  wise. 

"  '  I  had  not  forgotten  my  experience  with  tobacco  and 
stimulants,  and  having  the  means  to  gratify  my  desires  in 
that  direction,!  lost  no  opportunity  of  doing  so.  My  methods 
of  indulgence  were,  however,  unique — I  never  combined  the 
use  of  tobacco  and  liquor.  As  I  have  already  informed  you, 
my  organization  is  peculiar- — there  appears  to  be  room  in  my 
mentality  for  but  one  intense  passion  at  a  time.  When  I 
smoked,  therefore,  it  was  my  custom  to  consume  a  large 
amount  of  strong  tobacco  at  a  sitting.  And  such  enjoyment 
as  it  gave  me!  Such  beautiful  and  agreeable  visions  as  I  saw 
through  the  fumes  of  my  pipe!  Heaven  was  not  so  very  far 
away, when  I  was  smoking! 

"  'My  method  of  drinking  was  somewhat  similar,  I  would 
drink  and  drink,  until  nature  could  stand  no  more!  And 
such  day  dreams  as  I  had,  after  my  brain  had  once  been 
tainted  with  liquor!  The  ideal  of  bliss  that  my  mind  now 
conceived,  was  a  drama  in  which  a  huge  cask  of  liquor  and 
myself,  played  the  principal  roles.  How  I  longed  to  be  in 
some  solitary  and  secluded  spot,  with  a  barrel  of  stimulants 
at  one  end  of  a  siphon  and  myself  at  the  other!  And  how  I 
would  drink,  if  such  a  situation  were  possible !  I  would  revel 
in  drink  until  the  last  fiery  drop  had  been  consumed!  Ah! 
what  a  magnificent  passion  that  of  drink  is,  to  be  sure!  How 
can  people  who  have  never  felt  such  magnificent  passions  as 
mine,  understand  the  furious  paroxysms  of  the  dipsomaniac? 
And  there  are  those  who  pity  such  as  I!  Why,  however 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


315 


much  one  might  suffer  for  such  indulgences,  the  physical 
misery  is  trifling-,  compared  with  the  joyful  delirium  and 
frenzied  happiness  for  which  it  pays! 

"'Doctor,  what  of  opium?     Does  it  act —     Pshaw!  I  do 


A   DREAM    OF    BLISS. 


not  need  it!    The  time  may  come,  but  now,  the  wellspring  of 
my  joy,  my  responsiveness  to  liquor,  is  not  yet  run  dry ! 

'"It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add,  that  the  other  passion 
against  which  my  father  warned  me,  soon  entered  my  life — 
there  came  times  when  my  soul-stirring  emotions  and  violent 


316  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

passions  were  centered  upon  woman — woman  in  the  collec- 
tive sense. 

"  'What  did  that  old  imbecile,  Martin  Luther,  mean  when 
he  said — 

"  Who  loves  not  wine,  woman  and  song- 
Lives  a  fool  his  whole  life  long"? 

"'Did  he  believe  it  possible  that  the  ordinary  human 
animal  could  love  all  three,  in  the  highest  sense  of  exaltation, 
at  one  and  the  same  time?  If  so,  he  knew  but  little  of  such 
organizations  as  mine. 

"'It  was  not  long1  before  the  excitement  caused  by  the 
unfortunate  duel  had  died  away.  My  friends  had  meanwhile 
exerted  their  influence  to  secure  immunity  from  prosecution 
for  me — at  such  time  as  I  chose  to  return  to  my  home — and 
with  success;  I  was  no  long-er  a  refugee,  but  the  master  of 
my  own  freedom — almost. 

"'My  father  wrote  me,  urging  me  to  return  at  once — 
nearly  a  year  had  elapsed,  and  he  naturally  thought  that  I 
would  be  overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of  being-  home  again. 
Much  to  his  sorrow  and  consternation,  I  refused.  My 
mother,  and  even  Mina,  wrote  me  letter  after  letter,  in  a 
similar  strain,  but  even  their  pleading's  were  in  vain.  No  ;  I 
would  not  return  home — my  newly  developed  passions  could 
not  have  full  sway  there ! 

" '  Not  long-  after  this,  my  father  died,  and  I  was  abso- 
lutely compelled  to  return  home,  to  assume  charg-e  of  his 
affairs.  This  incident  stemmed  the  tide  of  my  passions — for 
the  time  at  least — and  under  the  influence  of  my  mother  and 
darling-  Mina,  in  conjunction  with  my  necessarily  quiet  life,  I 
became  a  little  more  like  my  original  self. 

"'I  finally  decided  to  follow  the  dictates  of  my  hig-her 
sense  of  duty — which  was  still  in  evidence,  strange  as  it  may 
seem.  My  will  power  was  not  totally  gone,  and  for  a  time 
was  triumphant,  even  as  in  the  old  college  days.  I  married 
Mina,  and  settled  down  in  the  old  home,  much  to  the  joy  of 
my  mother,  who,  unfortunately,  did  not  live  very  long-  after 
that  consummation  of  her  wishes  which  she  believed  to  be  an 
absolute  guarantee  of  my  future  happiness  and  g-ood  behavior. 

"'With   the   death  of  mv   mother,   however,   the  chief 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  317 

restraining-  influence  was  removed  from  my  erratic  nature — 
her  inhibitory  power  over  my  fiery  impulses  had  been  little 
short  of  marvellous.  Mina's  influence  over  me  was  a  more 
delicate  one — it  was  that  of  affection,  unassociated  with  any 
of  that  strictly  psychic  element  of  control,  without  which, 
affection  is  often  helpless. 

"'It  was  not  long-  before  my  old  gusts  of  passionate 
temper  returned,  and  I  made  my  poor  wife's  existence  miser- 
able. It  was  the  experience  of  my  martyr  mother  over  again, 
only  Mina  was  of  more  pliant  and  less  philosophical  mould  than 
was  she — sorrows  that  had  passed  over  my  mother  without 
even  bending-  her  fortitude,  fairly  crushed  little  Mina — she 
mourned  her  heart  away,  poor  child. 

"  '  I  soon  began  to  yearn  for  my  old  periodical  indulgences 
in  my  violent  passion  for  drink,  and  its  soul-stirring-  concom- 
itants. I  realized  that  it  would  never  do  to  indulge  my 
passionate  propensities  at  my  home,  so  I  devised  excuses  to 
go  to  New  York  from  time  to  time. 

"  'Ah!  what  a  delicious  memory  is  that  of  those  periods 
of  frenzied  enjoyment!  Doctor — with  all  my  miseries  and 
misfortunes,  my  life  would  have  been  well  worth  the  living, 
had  my  memory  naught  to  revert  to  save  my  tempests  of 
passion!  Ye  gods!  how  I  drank!  What  pleasure  of  the 
senses  was  not  mine,  and  in  a  degree  the  most  superlative? 
What  joy  did  I  not — ?  but  you  cannot  understand;  no  man  of 
your  make-up  can  appreciate  the  riotous  pleasures  that 
I  have  enjoyed.— 

"  'One  of  my  chief  ambitions  in  life,  was  to  have  an  heir 
— the  Sturtevant  line  of  succession  \vas  very  dear  to  me. 
You  can  imagine  how  happy  I  was  when  I  knew  that  my 
hopes  in  this  direction  were  likely  to  be  realized.  "My  son!" 
How  sweet  that  sounds  to  me, even  now !  My  very  being,  was 
wrapped  up  in  the  rosy  prospect! 

"  'As  you  will  understand  from  what  you  already  know 
of  my  mental  peculiarities,  all  other  passions  were  displaced 
by  this  new  one — for  revelling  in  the  prospect  of  an  heir, 
really  became  a  fixed  and  dominant  passion  in  my  mind. 
There  were  no  more  excursions  to  New  York,  no  more  out- 
bursts of  temper,  and  my  wife  was  happy  again. 


318  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'It  is  hardly  necessary  to  expatiate  upon  the  disaster 
that  overthrew  my  rose-colored  hopes — the  child  was  a  girl! 

"  'For  the  fourth  time  in  my  life,  the  impulse  tokill,came 
over  me  in  a  wave  of  unreasoning1  fury — I  wished  to  destroy 
that  innocent  child.  Fortunately,  I  had  sense  enough  to  give 
my  violent  passion  another  outlet;  I  refused  to  see  either 
mother  or  child,  and  went  to  New  York  on  a  prolonged 
carousal — the  old  story  over  again. 

"  '  When  I  finally  returned  home — my  violent  outburst  of 
emotional  insanity  having  spent  itself — I  again  refused  to  see 
my  little  daughter;  indeed,  I  never  saw  her.  Even  when  the 
child  fell  ill,  I  was  still  obdurate.  At  length  the  poor  little 
thing  died — I  refused  to  go  to  the  funeral.  I  did  not  dare — 
I  was  afraid  of  myself,  and  justly,  as  the  sequel  will  show. 

"  '  A  few  days  after  the  burial  of  the  little  one,  Mina  ven- 
tured to  expostulate  with  me  upon  my  conduct.  Gentle  as 
was  her  reproof,  sad  as  were  her  tears,  they  had  but  one 
result — they  aroused  my  violent  temper,  and  in  the  intoxica- 
tion of  my  anger  I — struck  my  wife ! 

"  'I  fled  to  New  York,  to  escape  from  myself,  and  for  a 
month  I  was  in  a  state  of  delirious  happiness — passion  had 
closed  the  curtain  of  memory,  and  the  hand  of  love  drew  it  not 
back. 

'"I  never  saw  my  home  again.  When  the  storm  of 
passion  had  spent  its  rage,  I  was  told  that  my  wife  was  dead. 
No  one  knew  that  I  had  struck  her — she  died  blessing  me, 
and  her  secret  was  buried  with  her.  A  broken  heart  keeps 
its  secrets  well! 

"  'There  is  but  little  more  to  tell.  I  sold  the  old  home, 
leaving  the  details  entirely  to  our  old  family  lawyer — I  had 
not  the  courage  to  face  my  old  friends  and  neighbors. 

"  'I  went  to  South  America,  and  remained  away  from  my 
native  land  until  the  Mexican  war  broke  out,  when  I  returned 
and  enlisted  in  the  army.  My  Sturtevant  blood  at  last  had  a 
fair  field,  and  right  merrily  it  pulsed!  Men  of  ordinary 
mould,  cannot  conceive  of  the  fierce  delight  that  scenes  of 
carnage  give  to  one  of  my  stamp.  How  I  revelled  in  the 
sights  and  sounds  of  battle! 

'"I  served  through  the  Mexican  war  with  distinction — 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  319 

winning-  a  commission  as  captain.  I  afterward  went  to  Cali- 
fornia, during-  the  g-old  fever.  I  was  successful  in  my  mining- 
ventures,  and  became  an  enormously  wealthy  man.  Much 
of  my  wealth,  however,  was  eventually  dissipated. 

"  'When  the  Civil  war  beg-an,  I  entered  the  Union  army 
as  a  private  soldier,  and  foug-ht  until  I  was  wounded  and  dis- 
abled. I  lost  my  arm  at  Kenesaw  Mountain — this  empty 
sleeve  is  a  badg-e  that  one  of  my  blood  mig-ht  well  be  proud  to 
wear,  and  broug-ht  but  one  regret;  I  could  no  long-er  fight — 
no  long-er  know  the  passionate  joy  of  war! 

"  'Since  the  war, I  have  been  all  over  the  world.  Wher- 
ever excitement  was  promised,  there  mig-ht  I  be  found.  I 
was  a  war  correspondent  during-  the  Franco-Prussian  war, 
and  only  regretted  the  disability  that  prevented  my  enter- 
ing- the  ranks  of  the  French  army  under  my  friend,  Marshal 
McMahon. 

"  'I  finally  drifted  to  this  out-of-the-way  place.  I  came 
here  some  three  years  ag-o,  and  boug-ht  a  fine  farm  some  dis- 
tance from  town.  There  I  live  among-  my  books— alone,  save 
for  my  domestics  and  farm  laborers.  Tobacco  and  liquor 
bring-  their  joyous  dreams  as  of  old!  I  am  happy  in  my 
misery,  miserable  in  my  happiness!' 

"'Monotonous,  you  say?  Oh  no — Chicag-o  is  not  far 
away,  and  I  g-o  and  come  as  I  please — when  my  storms 
come  on.' 

"Just  then  the  landlord's  voice  was  heard  in  the  next 
room,  saying- — 

"  'It  is  almost  train  time,  and  that  g-entleman  may  want 
some  supper  before  he  g-oes.  Sarah,  step  into  the  office  and 
ask  him  whether  he  wants  us  to  fix  something-  for  him,  and 
what  he  would  like.' 

"I  turned  expectantly  toward  the  door,  in  pleasant 
anticipation  of  the  coming-  of  the  rosy-cheeked  Sarah. 

"  She  appeared,  and  delivered  her  messag-e. 

"'Yes,'  I  replied,  'and  you  will  please  prepare  supper 
for  two— the  best  the  house  affords.  You  will  join  me  I  am 
sure,  sir,'  I  said,  turning-  toward  —  the  empty  arm  chair! 
My  fascinating-  companion  had  disappeared  ! 


320  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"As  I  sat  eating"  my  supper,  I  marvelled  much  at  the 
strange  conduct  of  my  quondam  friend: 

"  '  By  the  way,  landlord,'  I  said,  '  Mr.  Sturtevant  is  quite 
a  remarkable  character.' 

"'Sturtevant — Sturtevant?'  he  repeated,  reflectively  — 
'  never  heard  of  him  before,sir.  Where  does  he  live  ? ' 

"  '  Why,  he  lives  here,  in  your  town,  does  he  not? '  I  asked. 

"  '  There's  no  such  man  in  this  town  or  in  the  county,  so 
far  as  I  know,'  he  replied. 

"I  mentally  pitied  the  landlord's  stupidity,  but  said  no 
more  along-  that  line — I  tried  another  tack. 

"  '  By  the  way,  landlord,  that  was  quite  an  interesting  old 
gentleman,  wrhom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  in  your  hotel 
office  this  afternoon.  He  was  highly  entertaining.' 

"'You  mean  the  old  one-armed  man,  sir?'  asked  mine 
host. 

"  '  Yes,  the  old  blue-coated  veteran  \vith  the  handsome 
face.' 

"  '  Oh,  that's  old  Jim  Tyler.  Well,  he's  a  good  fellow 
enough,  but  he's  mighty  shiftless.  He's  no  veteran — that's 
my  old  army  blouse  he's  got  on.  You  see,  the  old  man's  my 
father-in-law,  and  he  likes  to  parade  around  in  soldier  clothes, 
so  I  let  him  wear  my  old  relic.' 

"By  this  time  I  was  all  attention,  as  you  might  suppose. — 

"  'Ah,  my  friend,  you  interest  me-  perhaps  you  know 
something  of  the  missing  arm,'  I  said. 

"  'Well,  I  don't  know  where  it  is  now,'  replied  my  new 
entertainer,  somewhat  facetiously,  'but  the  old  man  lost  it  in 
the  flour  mill.  He  was  always  a  sort  of  a  curious  chap  and  he 
would  fool  around  machinery.  When  he  got  his  hand  caught, 
he  might  have  pulled  it  out  if  he  hadn't  been  so  darned  lazy — 
he  just  left  it  in,  until  his  arm  was  pretty  well  chewed  up !  If 
the  miller  hadn't  seen  him  and  pulled  his  arm  out,  he'd  have 
lost  his  head,  I  reckon — such  as  he  has.' 

"  '  He  seems  to  be  a  well-read  man,'  I  said. 

"  'Oh,  yes;  he  has  read  pretty  much  everything — he  just 
does  nothing  but  loaf  and  read,  all  the  time,'  replied  the 
landlord. 

"  '  Has  he  traveled  much  ? '  I  asked. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  321 

"'Traveled!  Well,I  should  say  not,'  he  answered.  'You 
don't  know  him  or  you  wouldn't  ask  that  question.  Why,  he 
is  too  blamed  lazy  to  get  aboard  a  train — he  hasn't  been  five 
miles  away  from  this  hotel  in  ten  years!' 

"  '  He  is  wealthy,  I  presume,'  I  said. 

"'Wealthy!  He  hasn't  got  a  dollar  in  the  world.  His 
wife  supported  him  until  she  died.  I  married  the  house,  and 
him  with  it.  I  don't  mind  taking-  care  of  him  though — my 
wife  and  children  are  very  fond  of  Grandpa  Tyler.  Besides, 
he  has  no  vices — he  never  smoked,  or  drank  a  drop  in  his  life. 
He's  too  lazy  I  guess;  he's  afraid  the  active  excitement  might 
kill  him.  Then,  too,  he  is  so  easy  to  get  along  with — he  is 
never  quarrelsome  and  is  as  kind-hearted  as  an  old  woman. 
I  guess  his  wife  had  him  well  in  hand,  if  all  I  hear  is  correct. 
Thank  the  Lord!  My  wife  doesn't  take  after  her  mother!' 

"Well  sir,  I  hope  the  old  man  will  go  on  reading  novels 
and  such  things  for  many  years  yet.  He  does  nothing  but 
dream,  and  tell  yarns  about  his  imaginary  experiences — all 
taken  out  of  his  friends'  libraries,  for  he's  too  shiftless  to 
own  any  books  himself. 

"  'But  he's  likely  to  dream,  and  peddle  out  his  dreams  for 
a  long  while  yet,  sir.  Did  he  tell  you  any  of  his  yarns?' 

"'Why,  ye — no,  not  exactly,  'I  replied,  'just  a  few 
reminiscences,  that's  all." 

"  'Just  as  I  supposed,'  said  mine  host,  '  that's  his  strong 
point.  But  you'd  better  get  over  to  the  station  sir,  your  train 
is  coming!" 


"I  had  indeed,  spent  a  most  profitable  day!  As  the  train 
sped  along  toward  home  I  mused — 

"  '  Verily,  my  romantic  friend  practices  what  he  preaches 
—he  does  live  his  authors.  He  told  me  the  truth ;  he  is  truly 
a  martyr  to  his  passions;  for  ease,  books,  and  for — lying.' 


"  Good  gracious,  boy !  Do  you  know  what  time  it  is?  It's 
nearly  one  o'clock.  My  passion  for  story-telling  is  almost 
equal  to  old  Jim  Tyler's.  You  must  go  home  and  get  some 

sleep. 


322 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"I?  Oh,  I'm  an  old  stager  and  don't  need  as  much  rest 
as  a  hard-working-  student  like  yourself,  but  it  is  nevertheless 
about  time  for  me  to  retire. 

"It  is  singular,  is  it  not,  that  one  gets  so  used  to  late 
hours  after  a  while?  But  we  must  make  up  for  lost  time, 
sooner  or  later.  When  we  get  real  old,  we  require  plenty 
of  sleep — more  and  more  as  time  goes  on,  until  we  get  our 
final  overdose  of  slumber  and  forget  to  wake  up  again.  This 
is  as  it  should  be,  and  shows  that  if  Nature  is  permitted  to 
have  her  own  way,  she  is  very  kind  to  her  weary  children. 

"Goodnight." 


OLD  ABE  AS  A  MUSICAL  CRITIC, 


iO,  yo'  ain't  feelin'  jes*  well, 

little  Marster  Ben? 
What  kine  ob  smell  is  dat 

erbout  yo'  cloze  ? 
Yo's  paler  dan  er  po'  ole 

yallah  settin'  hen! 
Bin  smokin'  I  jes  reckon— 

oh,  I  knows ! 
I    Be  sho*  yo'  kain'  fool  yo' 

uncle  j  dat  yo'  kaint ! 
An'  whut's  mo',  yo'  shan' 

try,  deed'n  yo'  shan't ! 
Whuffo'  yo'  didn'  tell  me 

whut  yo'  wuz  doin'? 

De  nex'  dat  I  knows,  yo'll  be  er  chewin'! 
Dar  now,  ma  little  honey,  doan'  yo'  cry — 
Yo'll  feel  bettah  bye  an'  bye, 
Take  yo'  smokin'  easy  an'  not  too  strong — 
Get  yo'  hand  in  befo*  long, 


"ABR'HAM,  BAR'S  OUAH  GOOD  ANGFX.  " 


OLD  ABE  AS  A  MUSICAL  CRITIC, 


Doctor  was  much  later  than 
usual  in  getting  in  from  his 
rounds,  and  I  was  kept  waiting 
for  him  nearly  an  hour.  It  was  snow- 
ing- quite  heavily,  and  when  my  dear 
old  friend  finally  arrived,  he  was  covered 
with  a  fleecy  coat  of  white,  and  his  whisk- 
ers were  clog-g-ed  up  so  that  they  stood  out  from 
his  face  most  defiantly.  He  looked  not  unlike  old 
Santa  Glaus— only  better  natured  and  more  stalwart. 
It  was  evident  that  the  world  was  going-  smoothly 
with  the  doctor  just  then.  His  rubicund  visage — 
which  plainly  showed  that  snow  is  an  excellent  cosmetic — 
\vas  glowing  with  health  and  good  nature,  and  I  wondered  at 
the  transformation  that  had  occurred  in  him  in  the  short 
space  of  a  fortnight,  for  at  my  last  visit  I  fancied  he  was 
rather  hypochondriacal  and  depressed. 

I  assisted  the  doctor  in  removing  his  coat,  meanwhile  com- 
menting on  his  cheery,  healthy  appearance.  He  seemed 
much  gratified,and  said — 

"Yes,  there  is  a  change  in  my  feelings  too;  I  had  been 
consulting  the  wrong-  doctor  for  many  years.     I've  got  the 
right  one  now  though. 
"Who  is  he? 

"It's  not  a  'he,'  this  time,  but  a  'she' — the  new  consult- 
ant in  my  case  is  my  wife. 

"Tell  you  about  it?  Well,  I'll  try  one  of  her  beefsteak 
specifics  for  melancholy  and  fatigue,  first,  then  I'll  tell  you 


328  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

something-  about  my  new  doctor's  advice.  Meanwhile,  you 
will  be  more  comfortable  in  the  library.  You'll  find  the  latest 
book  of  interest  on  the  table — Max  Nordau's  '  Degeneration ' 
— and  by  the  way,  it  is  one  of  the  most  interesting-  and  valu- 
able books  ever  written." 


"Well,  my  boy,  I'm  ready  for  my  fez,  g-own  and  hookah. — 

"Do  you  know,  sir,  that  I  wouldn't  be  at  home  to-nig-ht 
had  it  not  been  for  the  anticipated  pleasure  of  talking-  to  you  ? 

"Of  course,  it  is  a  compliment — I  intended  it  to  be. 
When  I  have  answered  your  question  regarding  my  improved 
appearance  and  my  wife's  prescription,  you'll  appreciate  it 
much  better,!  am  sure. 

"But,  about  my  physical  improvement: 

"You  have,  of  course,  noticed  that  I  have  been  rather 
down  in  the  mouth  lately.  I  thought  I  \vas  overworking-, 
but  as  that's  such  a  common  complaint  among-  doctors,  I 
hadn't  concerned  myself  much  about  it.  My  wife  was  on  the 
alert,  however,  and  called  my  attention  to  my  condition,  with 
unmistakable  emphasis.  'Overwork,'  she  said,  'is  a  g-ood 
arg-ument,  and  undoubtedly  fits  your  case  admirably,  but 
there  is  another  fault  of  your  daily  routine  that  is  more 
serious.  You  don't  play  eiioug-h,  and,  what  is  worse,  you 
drag-  my  life  into  your  sloug-h  of  despond,  by  depriving-  me  of 
all  social  enjoyment  and  recreation.  Now  I  propose  to  turn 
over  a  new  leaf,  and,  to  beg-in  with,  you  are  going-  to  let  some 
of  your  nig-ht  work  g-o,  and  devote  your  evening's  to  me,  for  a 
while  at  least.  If  I  once  g-et  you  started,  I  know  you'll  fall  in 
line  quite  willing-ly.  Recreation  or  divorce,  my  dear !  I  mean 
it,  sir!  There  isn't  a  judg-e  in  Chicag-o,who  wouldn't  grant 
me  a  divorce  on  the  plea  of  neglect,  cruelty  and  desertion. 
I've  stood  it  long  enoug'h,  and  we  are  not  going  to  have  any 
funerals  in  this  family  if  I  can  help  it.  I'm  going  to  run  the 
machine  a  little  while  for  a  change,  and  we  will  begin  the  new 
regime  to-morrow  evening.' 

"  Well,  I  saw  that  I  was  in  for  it,  and  as  I  have  long  since 
ceased  to  argue  with  my  wife  when  she  has  her  mind  set 
upon  anything,  I  submitted  as  gracefully  as  I  could. 

"When  I  started  on  my  rounds  the  next  morning,  my 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  329 

wife  reminded  me  of  my  engagement.  I  asked  her  where 
we  were  going',  and  she  said  it  wrould  be  time  enough  to  know 
that,  when  she  had  her  own  mind  made  up,  so  I  might  as  well 
hold  my  peace  until  evening. 

"What  do  you  think  she  did?  She  bought  tickets  for 
the  opera,  and  defiantly  held  'em  under  my  nose  at  dinner 
that  evening! 

"'The  opera!'  I  groaned.  'What  the  deuce  do  I  care 
about  the  opera?'  When  I  glanced  at  the  tickets  I  was 
dumbfounded — they  were  for  //  Trovatore! 

"  'Italian  opera,  by  the  eternal ! '  I  yelled — 'and  I  suppose 
I  must  put  on  my  dress  suit ! ' 

"'Even  so,'  said  my  wife,  blandly,  as  she  passed  me  a 
plate  of — maccaroni  soup,  by  all  that's  sarcastic! 

"I  saw  that  the  fates  were  against  me,  and  quietly  sub- 
mitted. 

"I  finally  succeeded  in  getting  ready,  but  I  confess  that 
I  felt  like  a  fellow  who  is  going  to  his  own  execution.  In- 
deed, I  couldn't  rid  myself  of  my  mental  incubus  until  I 
found  myself,  after  a  futile  struggle  to  find  a  place  for  my 
hat,  safely  seated  in  one  of  those  abominable  devices  knowrn 
as  orchestra  chairs. 

"But,  my  boy,  there  is  no  possible  doubt  about  the 
power  of  music  over  the  human  heart.  I  went  into  that 
auditorium  a  misanthrope,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes  after 
the  orchestra  began  playing,  I  realized  that  life  was  once 
more  enjoyable.  It  was  not  the  world  that  was  upside  down; 
it  was  yours  truly.  Now,  you  will  please  understand  that 
I  always  did  like  music — I  used  to  fairly  haunt  the  opera — but 
for  several  years  I  had  heard  nothing  but  my  wife's  piano 
and  an  occasional  organ  grinder  or  little  German  band,  that 
merely  served  to  keep  me  in  pistol  practice  on  the  one  hand, 
and  to  cultivate  my  thirst  on  the  other. 

"  Well,  I'll  never  get  into  the  old  ruts  again.  The  effect 
of  that  beautiful  opera  was  a  revelation  to  me.  They  are 
talking  in  scientific  circles,  just  now,  about  music  as  a  thera- 
peutic agency.  Let  me  assure  you,  young  man,  there's  a 
deal  more  fact  than  fancy  in  the  new  idea.  Why,  the  ancient 
patriarchs  knew  more  about  the  treatment  of  the  blues  than 


330  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

we  do.  When  one  of  those  wise,  be-whiskered  old  fellows 
g-ot  cranky,  he  sent  for  a  minstrel  boy  or  a  troupe  of  dancing 
girls,  and  made  life  merry  with  the  timbrel,  and  harp,  and 
dancing — with  the  glowing  wine  of  the  country  on  the  side. 
And  we,  despite  our  Patti's  and  Calve's  and  Tamagno's,  to 
say  nothing  of  our  modern  ballets,  can't  even  keep  off  ennui ! 
We  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  ourselves! 

"Of  course,  there  are  some  folks  who  go  to  the  opera 
just  to  see,  and  be  seen  of,  others.  These  constitute  the 
majority  of  the  professed  connoisseurs  of  the  lyric  stage. 
When  these  people  aim  their  lorgnettes  at  you,  with  such  a 
supercilious  air  of  ineffable  superiority,  they  are  merely  per- 
forming the  only  function  for  which  nature  designed  them — 
that  of  quizzing  human  beings.  Their  curiosity  is  pardonable; 
a  real,  live  man  or  woman  is  a  wonderful  object  to  them. 

"  But  I  am  drifting  away  from  the  subject,  which  was  my 
wife's  prescription. — 

"It  seems  that  my  good  wife  is  as  'regular'  in  her  dosing- 
as  I  am.  She  evidently  believes  that  systematic  and  evenly 
divided  doses,  actively  followed  up,  constitute  the  best 
method  of  treatment  for  chronic  cases  like  mine.  At  least,  so 
one  would  think  from  her  energetic  management  of  my  case. 
I'll  pledge  you  my  word,  sir,  that  I  haven't  seen  a  patient 
after  dark,  since  that  first  memorable  evening1  at  the  opera 
— excepting,  of  course,  a  few  emergency  calls  and  '  census  ' 
cases.  I  have  attended  the  opera,  a  concert,  an  illustrated 
lecture,  or  something  of  the  kind,  almost  every  night  since  I 
saw  you  last — and,  to  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,  I  rather 
like  it.  It  seems  to  agree  with  me,  and  I'm  going  to  keep  it 
up.  My  wife  says  she  believes  I  am  a  g"ood,  industrious  hus- 
band and  ought  to  have  a  little  enjoyment  as  I  go  along.  Like 
a  certain  Irishman,  I  am  henceforth  going  to  '  live  whoile  Oi 
live,  for,  be  jabbers!  Oi'll  be  a  long  toime  dead.' 

"  But  we  are  forgetting  our  story  telling,  and  it's  getting 
well  on  toward  nine  o'clock." 


"The  consideration  of  my  wife's  prescription  and  its 
musical  ingredients,  recalls  to  my  mind  the  story  of  a  faithful 
old  negro,  who  worked  for  me  when  I  was  practicing  in 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  331 

A ,  who  worked  for  me  many  years,  in  fact,  and  died  in 

harness,  poor  old  man. 

"Old  Abraham,  or  'Abe,'  as  we  used  to  call  him,  had 
been  a  body  servant  of  a  cousin  of  my  mother's — General 
McCreery — as  gallant  an  old  'rebel'  as  ever  loved  the  '  stars 
and  bars.'  When  the  general  died,  he  bequeathed  Abe  to  my 
mother — for  the  old  negro,  to  his  dying-  day,  believed  himself 
a  chattel  of  the  family,  and  absolutely  refused  to  consider 
himself  'one  er  dem  free  niggahs,  marster,'  even  in  theory. 
His  wages  were  regarded  by  him  in  the  light  of  a  gratuity, 
for  which  he  was  always,  '  sarvent,  marster,  an'  I  tanks 
yo'  bery  much,  sah,  fo'  yo'  kineness  ter  de  ole  man.' 
When  mother,  in  her  turn,  followed  the  starry  path  of  the 
true  believer,  old  Abe  fell  to  me — a  fortunate  thing  for  him, 
for  I  was  the  last  of  the  old  stock,  and  while  Abe  was  broken- 
hearted over  his  'kine  ole  mistis''  death,  he  was  ready  to 
resignedly  accept  the  situation,  providing  he  could  '  stay  in 
de  fam'ly,  Marse  Doctah.' 

"As  you  might  suppose,  Abe  was  a  special  pet  of  mine. 
He  was  the  last  link  that  bound  me  to  the  old  life,  and  I  loved 
him  for  the  sake  of  'auld  lang  syne,'  as  well  as  for  his  many 
good  qualities- — for  he  was  the  simplest,  most  sincere,  and 
kindest-hearted  creature  I  ever  knew — white  or  black.  My 
children  were  so  attached  to  the  old  negro  that  they  were 
actually  disconsolate  when  he  was  not  about,  to  sing  his 
quaint  songs  or  make  outlandish  toys  for  them,  such  as  no 
toy  shop  ever  saw.  Abe  watched  over  '  de  chillun '  like  a 
faithful  old  dog,  and  woe  betide  anybody  who  annoyed  them ! 
I  remember  one  occasion  when  I  had  considerable  trouble  in 
convincing  the  old  man  that  he  was  not  in  duty  bound  to  'sick 
de  dawg  on  dat  Irish  trash  whut  done  f  rowed  stuns  at  Marse 
Bob,  sah!' 

"Abe  had  been  with  the  family  so  long,  that  he  was  a 
privileged  character,  so  I  was  not  surprised  one  day,  to 
hear  him  grumbling  over  his  chores.  It  seems  that  his 
'mistis'  had  put  him  to  work  cleaning  up  the  cages  of  her  pet 
canaries.  As  I  happened  to  pass  the  little  summer-house 
where  he  was  fond  of  sitting  when  the  weather  was  pleasant, 
I  heard  him  growling  and  grumbling  over  his  task  like  an 


332 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


old  terrier  over  a  bone.  I  stood  listening-  for  a  moment,  when, 
perceiving-  me,  the  old  man  looked  up  and  said,  rather  con- 
fusedly : 

"  '  Wy,  is  dat  yo',  Marse  Doctah  ?     Didn'  know  yo'  wuz 
'roun'  sah,  deed'n  I  didn't — I  hopes  yo's  bery  well  sah!' 

'"I  am  very  well,  I  thank 
you,  Abe,  but  I  fear  you  are 
not,  for  it  appeared  to  me  that 
you  were  making-  more  fuss 
over  your  work  than  usual. 
You  don't  seem  to  be  very 
fond  of  canary  birds,  Abe.' 


"  AINT  YO'    'SHAMED   KR   YO'SEF,  MARSE   K'NARY?" 

"'Fon'  ob  'em,  sah!  fon'  ob  'em!  well,  I  ruddah  g-uess 
not!  Say,  Marse  Doctah,  whuffo'  yo'  done  keep  dem  ole 
k'nary  birds  'roun'  hyah  sah?  Dey's  jes'  g-ood  f'r  nuffin, 
dat's  whut  dey  is!  Dey  jes'  loafs  'roun'  in  dat  shiny  caig-e, 
an'  eats  'bout  er  bushel  er  dem  fancy  kines  er  grain  ebery  day, 
an'  renses  demsefs  off  in  dat  crock'ry  cup  'n  eats  lettuces  'n 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  333 

sugah,  an'  dat's  ebery  blessud  ting-  dat  dey  duz !  Dey  jes'  doan' 
'mount  ter  shucks,  dat's  whut  dey  doan't,  yo'  heah  me 
shoutin',  an'  dis  chile  doan'  see  whut  de  debb'l  dey's  g-ood 
fo'  nohow!  Fo'  Gawd,  marster!  I  done  hope  dat  caig-e  fall 
outen  de  windah  one  er  dese  fine  days,  ef  'twuzn't  fo'  little 
missy  cryin'  her  pooty  eyses  out  sah !' 

"  'Now,  see  here,  Abe,  you  are  talking-  foolishly.  Have 
you  no  eye  for  the  beautiful,  and  no  ear  for  the  melody  of 
nature's  feathered  song-sters?  Have  you  never  wandered 
'neath  the  green  of  the  leaves  in  the  early  spring-  and  heard 
the  beauteous  strains  of  nature's  orchestra?  Go  'long-  Abe; 
the  soul  of  harmony  is  not  in  you !  Your  Seneg-ambian  an- 
cestors would  be  ashamed  of  you,  for  has  it  not  been  said 
that  ' music  hath  charms  to  soothe  the  savag-e  breast?'  And 
by  the  way,  Abraham,  I  have  noticed  that  you  act  rather 
queerly  when  my  wife  plays  the  piano.  If  you  happen  to  be 
in  the  house  within  ear-shot  of  the  music  room,and  the  piano 
beg-ins  its  melodious  work,  you  usually  'scoot'  for  the  barn. 
Now,  I  want  you  to  understand  sir,  that  'scooting-'  during-  my 
wife's  hours  of  practice,  is  a  boon  that  is  even  denied  to  me, 
and  I  want  you  to  at  least  remain  within  call  hereafter.  If  I 
should  ever  be  compelled  to  gr>  to  the  barn  after  you — well,  I 
might  be  tempted  to  stay  there,  and  that  wouldn't  be  con- 
ducive to  my  domestic  happiness.' 

"Abe  hung  his  head  for  a  moment — the  satire  was  lost 
upon  him,  but  some  of  my  words  were  so  far  beyond  his  ken, 
that  he  evidently  imagined  them  fitted  for  the  correction  of 
the  most  depraved  and  hardened  character.  At  last  he  said, 
apolog-etically — 

"'Fo'  Gawd,  Marse  Doctah,  didn'  mean  no  ha'm  sah; 
deed'n  I  didn't!  Jes'  'pears  like  de  folks  heah  erway  doan' 
hab  de  same  kine  er  yeahs  like  de  nigg-ahs  hab  in  de  Souf, whar 
I  wuz  done  raised.  Wy,  marster,  de  nigg-ahs  on  de  ole  place, 
'way  down  in  Georgy  whar  I  come  fum,  wuz  all  jes'  like  me. 
Dey  nebbah  did  like  dem  ole  rattle  boxes  dat  de  ladies  at  de 
big"  house  use  ter  play.  I  doan'  know  nuffin  'bout  dem  'Gam- 
bians  'n  dem  ancestors  'n  sav'ges  nohow.  I  s'pose  dey's 
some  er  dem  wile  nig-g-ahs  like  er  man  whut  \vuz  preachin'  in 
de  ole  meetin'  house  down  home,  wuz  er  sayin'  wuz  de  ole 


334 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


stock  ob  all  de  nig-g-ahs  in  de  Souf.  But  dat  man  wuz  a  ole 
foolish,  dat's  whut  he  wuz!  He  didn'  know  nuffin!  D'yo' 
s'pose  ole  Marse  George  Washin'ton  would  hab  enny  er  dem 
ole  sav'g-es  'bout  his  place?  Deed'n  he  wouldn't,  sah,  deed'n 
he  wouldn't.  An'  wuzn't  us  nig-g-ahs  'scended  fum  dem  same 
ole  'lutionary  nig-g-ahs  like  dat  gre't  man  hed  'roun'  him? 
Marse  Doctah,  yo's  mos'  de  greates'  man  dat  ebah  I  seed, 

sah,  but  yo'  mus'n' 
be  follerin'  'long-  at- 
ter  sich  foolish  ole 
fellahs  like  dat  ole 
preacher  wuz — dey's 
crazy,  dat's  whut 
dey  is,  jes'  plum 
crazy,  sah,  an'  aint 
g-ot  no  brains.  Yo' 
heah  whut  I's  tellin' 
yo',  honey. 

"  'Doan'  make  no 
diff'unce  'bout  dem 
sav'g-es,  nohow,  dar 
aint  no  music  in  dem 
ole  tin  pans  whut's 
called  pi-anners. 
Bim  !  Bim !  Boom  ! 
Boom!  Rat -tat -tat! 
Slam -bang- !  Is  dat 
whut  yo'  calls  music, 
marster?  Huh!  dis 
chile  ruddah  listen 
ter  a  ole  gobbler,  er 
a  yallah-hammah  on 
dat  ar  ole  dead  tree  ! 
Music!  Wy,  de  rattlin'  er  dat  ole  machine  done  g-oes  up'n 
down  de  spine  er  ma  backbone  jes'  like  dar  wuz  er  big- 
squirr'l  inside,  er  runnin'  up'n  down  wid  er  gre't  big-  cockle- 
burr  in  his  mouf.  B-r-r-r!  'Deed,  marster,  yo'  kain'  fool  dis 
yeh  nig-g-ah  'bout  dat  bein'  music,  deed'n  yo'  kaint! 

"  '  Bar's  one  ting-  I's  bery  tankful  fo',  marster — dar  aint 


ONE   OF    "DEM   WILE   NIGGAHS.  " 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  335 

no  pi-anners  up  dar  in  de  New  Jerus'lem.  Ma  ole  mistis  in 
de  Souf,an'  de  sweet  little  missy  dat  I  done  watched  grow  up 
to  er  big-  young-  lady  an'  helped  ter  bury  when  she  wuz  dead, 
use  ter  like  ter  play  on  de  pi-anner — an'  I'd  almos'  be  willin' 
ter  stan'  it,  sah,  ef  I  could  only  see  dem  agin — but  praise  de 
Lawd!  dey  ain'  got  nuffin  but  harps  'n  simblers 'n  salters 
11  tings  like  dat,  up  dar,  an  I's  bin  er  wond'rin'  ef  dey  doan' 
hab  de  banjo  way  up  yander — dat's  de  niggah's  harp.  Tell 
yo'  whut,  Marse  Doctah,  daraint  no  music  in  all  de  world  like 
dat  er  de  banjo.  Talk  erbout  yo'  'kestrahs  'n'  brass  ban's  'n 
truck  like  dat!  w'y,  dey's  no  whar  'long  side  er  de  banjo. 
'Deed  marster,  an'  I  hopes  yo'll  done  'membah  dat,  'long  'bout 
Chris'mas  time,  sah.  Use  ter  play  him  right  smaht,  sah, 
mase'f.  Ma  ole  han's  is  gittin'  kine  er  stiff,  sah,  but  I  ain' 
too  ole  ter  try  ter  brush  up  agin.  I  kaint  shuffle  like  I  use 
ter,  but  I  reckon  I  ain'  fo'git  how  ter  pat  dese  yeh  ole  feet  in 
keepin'  time. 

"  '  P'raps  yo'd  like  ter  know  how  ter  cuah  some  er  dese 
ole  niggahs  dat's  got  de  rheumatiz?  I  know  yo's  right 
peart  at  docterin',  sah,  but  some  er  dese  ole  niggah  fellahs 
done  got  'em — whut  yo'  call  'em  ?  Oh,  de  chronickers,  an'  all 
de  doctah's  pizen — beggin'  yo'  pa'don,  sah — in  de  hull  world, 
doan'  do  'em  no  good.  Yo'  mout  rub  de  goose  grease  'n 
snake  ile  on  dere  ole  jints  till  de  cows  come  home,  an'  yo'  doan' 
do  'em  no  good.  But  jes'  let  'em  hear  de  plunk  er  de  ole 
banjo,  an'  de  squawkin'  ob  a  ole  niggah  fiddle,  an'  yo'  nebbah 
seed  nuffin  like  de  way  dey  gits  obah  de  rheumatiz.  Sakes 
alibe,  marster  I  dar's  nuffin  limbahs  up  a  ole  niggah's  jints 
like  dat  music — 'ceptin'  er  'coon  track,  er  de  ebenin'  squawk 
ob  er  chick'n  whut  done  got  hissef  lef '  out  er  doors  in  de  cole 
when  his  bruddahs  an'  sistahs  done  gone  ter  roos'. 

"  '  Doan'  know  w'y  'tis,  Marse  Doctah,  but  dar's  sumpen 
'bout  de  banjo  dat's  bery  'spirin'.  'Pears  like  de  chu'ch  'd 
be  bettah  pat'nized  ef  dey  wuz  ter  hab  de  banjo  played  in  de 
sarvice.  Dar's  lots  ob  ole  niggahs  jes'  like  me,  sah,  dat 
ruddah  go  ter  hebben  wid  de  plink!  plink!  plinkety!  plink! 
er  de  banjo,  dan  wid  all  de  heb'nly  cho'uses  er  singin',  an'  all 
de  golden  harps  er  twangin'  all  ter  once.  Yo'  see,  marster, 
dar's  er  heap  er  diffunce  how  yo'  works  on  a  niggah's  f eelin's. ' 


336  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  Why,'  said  I,  hoping-  to  draw  the  old  man  out,  even  at 
the  expense  of  changing-  a  most  interesting-  subject,  'how  is 
that,  Abe?  I  had  always  supposed  that  sacred  music  and 
the  roar  of  a  church  organ  were  most  powerful  arguments  in 
the  conversion  of  the  negro.' 

"  'Dat's  all  rig-ht  'bout  de  gfospel  hymns  sah,  but  I's  telliti' 
yo'  dat  de  groanin'  an'  wheezin'  ob  a  ole  org-an  doan'  Vert 
nobody  'mong  de  nig-g-ahs.  Bar's  some  ways  dat  yo'  can 
'press  de  niggah  wid  de  need  er  his  soul's  salbation,  an'  dar's 
some  uddah  ways  dat  yo'  done  shoo  him  off,  sho's  yo'  bawn. 
W'y,  dar  wuz  a  ole  bob'litionist  fellah  whut  come  'long-  er 
preachin'  down  whar  I  use  ter  lib,  dat  use  ter  be  pow'ful 
'zortin,  an'  use  ter  keep  de  mo'ner's  bench  plum  full  all  de 
time.  We  use  ter  tink  he  wuz  g-wine  ter  be  de  salbation  ob 
ebery  nig-g-ah  in  de  hull  county.  He  wuz  dat  movin',  an'  dat 
pow'ful,  dat  eben  dem  Georg-y  crackahs,use  ter  feel  de  touch 
er  de  Lawd  on  dere  souls. 

'"He!  he!  he!  Ef  yo'  done  knowed  dem  ole  crackahs, 
marster,  yo'd  done  blieb  dat  enny  man  dat  could  move  dem, 
could  'vert  de  bery  ole  debb'l  hissef.  But  he  kep'  on  er 
preachin'  an'  er  prayin',  an'  er  'zortin',  till  he  done  obah- 
retch  hissef  an'  den  dat  wuz  de  last  er  him.' 

"  '  Overreached  himself,  Abe ;  in  what  way  ? '  I  asked. 

"  '  Well,  yo'  see  marster,  'twuz  dis  er  way.  One.  Sunday 
mornin'  he  wuz  er  preachin'  'way  'bout  de  'ternal  punishin' 
er  de  onbliebah,  an'  wuz  tellin'  us  nig-g-ahs  all  'bout  hell.  He 
done  tole  us  'bout  de  debb'l  an'  his  angels  all  er  wearin'  red 
cloze,  an'  doin'  nuffin  but  prod  sinnah  men  on  er  fawk,  jes'  like 
er  hay  fawk,  all  day  long-. 

'"Oh,  ma  breddren!"  sez  he,  "yo'  mus'  all  stribe  ter 
keep  'way  fum  dar!  W'y,  ma  breddren  and  sistren,  hell  is  er 
Ian'  er  'petual  hotness !  It's  hottah  down  dar  dan  de  hot 
spring's !  De  groun'  gibs  fo'th  hot  vapahs  'n  de  lan's  all 
cubbahd  obah  wid  sizzlin'  steam,  jes'  like  out'n  er  steam 
injine!  On  de  udder  han',  ma  breddren  and  sistren,  jes'  look 
at  hebben — jes'  look  at  it!  W'y,  it's  so  cool  up  dar,  dat  while 
de  po'  sinnahs  down  b'low  is  er  fryin'  in  de  pan,  de  rig-hteous 
man  up  dar,  kin  play  snowball,  an'  look  down  on  de  onbliebah 
an'  say,  'Hallo  dar!  yo'  ole  sinnah  man!  doan'  yo'  wish  yo' 


THE  HOOKAH. 


wuz  up  hyah,  er  settin'  on  dis  cole  cloud,  an'  wearin'  er  dis 
yeh  nice  sealskin  obahcoat?'    Dat,  ma  breddren  an'  sistren, 
done   shows  yo'  de  punishment  er 
de  ungawdly  whut  walks  in  de  ways 
er  de  debb'l." 

"  'Well,  Abe,'  said  I,  'your  cler- 
gyman was  certainly  very  graphic, 
and  quite  fervently  in  earnest.  He 
must  have  been  idolized  by  his  con- 
gregation.' 

"  '  Doan'  know  nuffin'  'bout  no 
graffic,  Marse  Doctah,  an'  doan' 
know  whut  yo'  means  by  iderlized, 
but  dat  ar  sarmon  done  busted  up 
de  chu'ch,sah." 

"  'Broke  up  the  church!  Why, 
Abe,  how  could  that  be?' 

"  '  Dat's  easy  'nuff  'splained,sah ; 
erbout  half  er  dat  cong-'ashun  done 
got  de  rheumatiz  ter  beat  de  bery 
debb'l,  an'  when  dey  foun'  out  dat 
hebben  wuz  er  cole  place,  dey  jes' 
done  backslide,  ebery  mggah  ob  'em. 
Ef  dat  fool  preachah  'd  undahstood 
his  bizness,  he'd  done  got  er  banjo, 


"DOAN'  vo'  WISH  YO'  wuz  UP  HYAH?" 


338  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

an'  plunked  'em  all  ter  hebben  widout  talkin'  'bout  de  climate. 
Some  ob  us  niggahs  doan'  know  much,  sah,  but  mos'  ob  us  'd 
ruddah  slide  ter  hell  on  er  sunbeam,  dan  clime  ter  hebben 
on  a  icickle,  an'  dat's  sho's  yo'  bavvn. 

"  '  Yo'  see,  Marse  Doctor,  we  niggahs  like  ter  hab  ting's 
made  plain  t'  us,  but  vo'  mus'  be  bery  keerful  how  yo' 
'splain  ebery  ting-.  Wy,  sah,  dar  wuz  one  ole  fellah  down  in 
Georgy,dat  use  ter  try  'splainin'  ting's  ter  de  nig-gahs  er  his 
chu'ch,  an'  dey  use  ter  brag  dat  dere  preachah  wuz  de  mos' 
larndedest  preachah  in  de  hull  state  er  Georgy,  but  one  ole 
brack  niggah  wench  done  ruin'd  de  ole  man's  prospec's  jes' 
by  one  little  quessh'n.  She  worked  fo'  Marse  Prince  on  de 
same  plantation  wid  me.  Yo'  see,  she  wuz  one  er  dem  free 
niggahs,  dat  de  ole  Kunnel  done  freed  'count  er  his  gal 
dat  died,  an'  dat  Lize  use'  ter  nuss  when  she  wuz  er  baby. 
Lize  Prince  mouter  bin  stuck  up— I  doan'  say  she  wuzn't, 
but  she'd  hed  er  right  smart  chance  ter  git  plenty  er  book 
larnin',  an'  she  knowed  jes'  how  ter  use  it,  too.  Well,  she 
hed  er  little  baby,  'bout  er  yeah  ole,  dat  wuz  de  cussedest 
little  moke  dat  mos'  ebah  yo'  seed  in  all  yo'  bawn  days. 
Lize  couldn't  do  nuffin  wid  him,  jes'  nuffin  'tall,  so  she  done 
said  she  'lowed  she  wuz  gwine  take  him  ter  de  preachah, 
ter  see  ef  he  couldn't  gib  her  some  'vice  'bout  de  brat. 

"'While  she  wuz  er  walkin'  'long-  down  de  road  ter  de 
preachah's  place,  she  wuz  wond'rin'  how  she'd  'gin  de  con- 
bersashun  'bout  de  young  one.  'Twouldn't  do  ter  lose  de 
chance  ter  show  her  eddicashun,  so  she  'eluded  ter  'gin  by 
tryin'  er  little  scripter  ter  fit  de  case  er  de  brack  little  rask'l. 
So  she  went  inter  de  preachah's  house,  she  did,  an'  'lowed 
she'd  like  ter  see  'im.  He  come  inter  de  room  whar  she  wuz 
ersettin',  an'  neah's  I  kin  'membah,  dis  is  whut  happen.  De 
preachah  come  walkin'  in,  kinder  stiff  'n'  sollum  like,  an'  sez — 

'  "Well,  ma  good  woman,  whut  kin  I  do  fo'  yo'?" 

'  "Well,  Marse  Preachah,"  sez  Lize,  er  lookin'  him  right 
in  de  eye — oh,  she  wuzn't  fear'd  er  de  ole  debb'l  hissef,  much 
less  er  preachah,  Lize  wuzn't! — "Yo'  kain't  do  nuffin  fo'  me 
puss'nally,  'ceptin  thoo  ma  only  begotten  chile,  an'  I  jes'  wants 
ter  ax  yo'  one  quessh'n,  fo'  we  goes  inter  de  'tails  er  de 
case,  ef  yo's  willin',  sah." 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


339 


'  "  W'y,  ob  co'se  I's  willin',"  sez  de  preachah.  "Alnt  I 
de  shep'd  er  all  de  lam's  er  Gawd  in  dis  yeh  deestrick?  Whut's 
de  quessh'n,  ma  good  woman?" 

'  "  Well,  sah,  whut  I'd  like  ter  know  is,  wheddah  dis  yeh 

chile  is  er  serrafeem 
'r  er  cherrabeem.  De 
good  book  done  say  dat 
de  serrafeem  an'  de 


"I'D    JES'    LIKE  TER    KNOW    WHUT    HE    IS,    SAH." 

cherrabeem  contin'aly  do  cry,  an'  dis  yeh  little  brack  rask'l  is 
er  squallin'  all  de  bressed  time,  sah,  an'  I'd  jes'  like  ter  know 
whut  he  is,  sah,  an'  praise  de  Lawd!  I  tink  yo'  kin  tole  me, 

sah." 


340  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

'"Woman!"  sez  de  preachah,  "dat's  de  mos'  onrebb'- 
rent  'terragation  dat  ebah  I  heahd!  G'  'long-  'way  now,  an' 
doan'  yo'  dahken  de  do'  ob  de  house  er  de  Lawd  agin  'till 
yo's  er  'pentant  woman !  Yo's  er  bery  wicked  sinnah, 
dat's  whutyo' is!" 

"  'If  ebah  dar  wuz  er  mad  woman  'twuz  dat  same  Lize. 
She  wuz  madder'n  er  gum  tree  full  er  bumble  bees.  Whew! 
De  way  she  done  flew  down  de  road  tow'ds  home  wuz  er  sight 
better'n  er  hoss  race  at  de  fair.  An'  mebbe  yo'  tink  she 
didn'  tole  all  de  sistahs  'bout  de  ignunce  er  dat  preachah ! 
De  upshot  er  de  mattah  wuz,  dat  de  lam's  done  quit  de  chu'ch, 
an'  dat  fool  preachah  bed  ter  git  obah  inter  Alabamy  mighty 
quick.  Yo'  see,  marster,  in  dem  days,  niggah  preachahs 
wuzn't  none  too  pop'lar  wid  de  white  qual'ty  nohow,  an'  er  bery 
little  'scuse  wuz  all  dat  wuz  ness'ary  ter  git  'em  er  nice  coat 
er  tar  an'  chick'n  feddahs.  When  de  cullud  folks  went  back 
on  'em,  den  dey  wuz  gone  sho  'nuff !' 

"  You  can  imagine,  my  dear  boy,  how  entertaining-  Abe's 
ideas  of  the  religious  instruction  of  the  negro  were.  I  could 
have  listened  to  him  for  a  week.  Knowing,  however,  that  the 
subject  was  a  perennially  fresh  one  in  the  mind  of  the  average 
negro,  and  not  being  so  sure  of  my  ground  as  regards  the 
negro  conception  of  music,  I  regretfully  changed  the  subject 
and  reverted  to  the  original  r61e  to  which  I  had  assigned  Abe 
— that  of  a  musical  critic. 

"  'By  the  way,  Abe,  we  have  wandered  from  the  subject 
a  trifle.  We  were  talking  of  music,  I  believe,  and  I  confess 
that  your  ideas  about  the  banjo  as  an  instrument  for  the 
cure  of  rheumatism  and  the  conversion  of  sinners,  were 
very  instructive  to  me.  However,  you  have  forgotten  your 
original  theme,  which  revolved  around  your  intense  hatred  of 
canary  birds.' 

"I  saw  that  Abe  was  somewhat  bewildered  by  my 
remarks,  so  I  brought  him  back  to  earth  by  saying — 

"'Tell  me,  Abe,  what  are  your  objections  to  canary 
birds?' 

" ' 'Jections,  marster?  dis  niggah  aint  got  no  'jections 
ter  k'nary  birds.  Dey's  all  right  in  dere  place,  sah,  but  dey's 
de  mos'  wuffless  fowlses  in  de  world.  Dey  mebbe  bery  nice 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  341 

in  de  woods  whar  dey  come  fum,  but  dey's  Dutch,  an'  I  doan' 
like  dese  for'ners  nohow.  Some  folks  tinks  dey's  ornymental, 
I  s'pose,  an'  I  doan'  say  but  whut  dey  is  ruddah  nice  lookin', 
wid  dere  yallah  wing's,  but  good  Lawd !  marster,  dey's  no  good 
f  er  song"  birds,  an'  dey  mus'  be  ruddah  slim  eatin' — dey  ain'  no 
biggah  'n  yo'  thumb,  sah.' 

"'Yes,  my  captious  critic,'  I  replied,  'but  everybody 
admires  their  sing-ing,  and  most  people  think  them  superior 
to  all  other  feathered  creatures  as  songsters.' 

"  '  Dat's  all  bery  well, sah,  but  de  people  dat  knows  whut 
dey's  talkin'  'bout,  an'  whut  real  sing-in'  is,  doan'  talk  like 
dat.  Jes'  heah  dat  yallah  bellied  sparrer — dat's  all  he  is,  sah  ! 
Jes'  heah  him  er  trillin'!  'pears  like  he's  tryin'  ter  bust  his- 
sef.  doan' it  marster?  Trill!  lill!  lill!  chirp!  chirp!  chee! 
chee!  choo!  choo!  choo!  chreep!  Jes'  look  at  him  now, 
Marse  Doctah.  Shoo !  g-'  long  !  Stop  yo'  screechin'  an' 
chirpin',  yo'  ole  foolish  yo'!  Ain'  nobody  gwine  pay  yo' 
no  'tention,  marse  k'nary,  so'  yo'  mout  jes'  as  well  sabe  all  er 
dat  win'  yo's  wastin' ! 

"  '  So,  dat's  whut  yo'  calls  er  singstah,sah,  an'  dat's  s'posed 
ter  be  good  singin',  hey? 

" '  Marse  Doctah,  us  'Mericans  orter  be  'shamed  er 
ouahsefs  ter  puff  dese  yeh  for 'in  fowlses  whut  kaint  do  no 
bettah  'n  dat.  Wuz  yo'  ebbah  in  de  country,  sah?  Den  yo's 
heahd  bettah  singin'  'n  dat.  Did  yo'  ebbah  see  de  bobo- 
linkum  bird  er  buzzin'  up  agin  de  win'  like  er  big  brack 
an'  yallah  buttahfly,  an'  heah  him  er  singin'  so  wile  an 'free,  jes' 
like  his  little  haht  wuz  er  obahflowin'  wid  happ'ness  an'  joy? 
Dat's  er  bird  sah,  whut  is  er  bird!  Oh,  whut  er  brack  an' 
yallah  beauty  he  is,  sah!  Wheddah  de  sky  is  er  smilin' er 
frownin',  wheddah  de  rain  is  er  fallin'  like  a  waterfall,  er 
drizzle,  drizzle,  drizzle,  yo'  kin  see  de  bobolinkum  flutterin'  in 
de  air  obah  de  grass  an'  de  reeds,  an'  heah  him  er  singin'  de 
gladdes'  ob  songs.  'Pears  like  when  de  sky  is  de  brackes' 
he  is  de  happies'. 

"  '  Nudder  ting  'bout  dat  bobolinkum,  marster,  he's  allus 
debes'  inhisbizness.  When  he's  up  hyah  in  de  Norf,he's  in 
de  singin'  bizness,  an  he  gibs  de  bes'  singin'  in  de  world. 
Den  he  done  change  his  obahcoat,  an'  put  on  his  summah  close, 


342  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

an'  go  Souf,  whar  he  turns  rice-buntin'an'g-oes  inter  de  prov- 
endah  bizness,  an'  gits  ter  be  de  bes'  eatin'  on  de  yeth. 

"  '  Whut  de  debb'l  duz  we  take  a  ole  eagle,fo'  de  nash'nal 
bird  fo'?  A  eagle  ain'  nowhar  'long-side  ob  er  bobolinkum. 
Dat's  de  greates'  bird  in  yo'  hull  passel  er  birds,  sah.  He's 
pooty  ter  look  at,  sweet  ter  de  yeah,  an'  melts  in  yo'  mouf. — 
Aint  yo'  'shamed  er  yo'sef,  marse  k'nary  bird,  when  yo'  heah 
dis  nig-g-ah  talkin'  'bout  yo'  bettahs?  Doan'  yo'  "cheep" 
back  at  me,  sah,  er  dis  nig-g-ah  'lows  he  mout  try  yo'  tastin' 
one  er  dese  fine  days ! ' 

"'But,'  said  I,  'you  surely  have  something-  good  to  say 
about  some  of  our  strictly  southern  birds.  One  who,  like 
yourself,  has  been  raised  where  the  whistle  and  call  of  the 
mocking-  bird  delig-ht  the  very  air,  and  where  beautiful  song- 
sters  are  almost  too  numerous  to  mention,  must  admire  other 
birds  besides  the  plebeian  bobolink.' 

"  '  Jes'  so,  Marse  Doctah ;  I  doan'  know  'bout  de  plebe'an 
but  I  wuz  g-ib'n  yo'  de  bes'  all-de-way- 'round  bird  dat  I  knows 
ob.  Bar's  some  er  de  Souf  birds  dat's  mos'  too  g-ood  ter 
talk  'bout,  sah.  De  mockin'  bird?  Deed'n  he  does  'light  de 
bery  air,  sah.  I  kin  'membah  how  ma  ole  mammy  use  ter 
sing-  ter  me  'bout  de  mockin'  bird,  in  er  sweet  song  'bout  er 
man  whut  done  g-one  'way  fum  his  home  in  de  Soufland.  I 
tink  'twuz  er  song  dat  mammy  use  ter  call  "De  Sweet  Sunny 
Souf,"  er  sumpen  like  dat.  I  kin  heah  her  sweet  voice  er 
singin'  now — 

"  Take  me  back  to  de  place  whar  I  first  saw  de  light, 
To  de  sweet  sunny  Souf  take  me  home, 
Whar  de  mockin'  bird  sung  me  ter  rest  eb'ry  night, 
Oh  why  wuz  I  tempted  ter  roam?  " 

"  'An'  while  ma  mammy  wuz  er  singin'  dat  sweet  song-, 
dar  wuz  er  big  mockin'  bird  er  singin'  erway  in  de  ole  mag- 
nolia tree  jes'  by  de  windah  ob  ouah  little  cabin.  Po'  ole 
mammy!  Dat  little  brack  pick'ninny  whut  yo'  sung-  ter 
sleep,  is  a  ole  man  now,  but  he  nebbah  kin  fo'g-it  dat  de 
mockin'  bird  hed  er  hard  time  er  keepin'  up  his  rep'tashun 
'long-side  er  deah  ole  mammy's  singin'. 

"  'De  mockin'  bird  didn't  hab  no  ribal  bye  'n'  bye,  sah, 
fo'  po'  ole  mammy  died,  an'  lef  her  brack  baby  boy  ter  roam 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


343 


de  yeth  'n'  grow  up  'mong-  strang-ahs  'long-  way  fum  de  ole 
cabin. 

"  '  De  mockin'  bird's  been  singin'  obah  er  grassy  moun' 
'way  down  in  Georgy,  whar  po'  mammy  lies,  fo'  mo'n  fawty- 
fibe  yeahs,  an'  her  boy  hez  sung-  er  bout  de  sweet  sunny  Souf, 
many  er  time  since  de  ole  plantashun  days — an'  felt  it,  too. 


"WHAR   DE    MOCKIN'    BIRD 
SUNG   ME   TER    REST." 


"'Scuse  me,  Marse  Doctah,  dese  yeh  'lectric  lights  dat 
yo'  all  hab  hyah  in  dis  yeh  town,  is  bery  tryin'  fo'  de  ole  man's 
eyes,  sah,  an'  'sides,  'pears  like  I's  ketched  er  cole,  sah,  an'  I's 
bery  much  'feard  yo's  done  gone  an'  g-ot  in  er  draff  yo'sef,  sah. ' 


344  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Abe  was  right — those  electric  lights  -were  rather  trying 
to  the  eyes,  and  my  vigorous  use  of  my  pocket  handkerchief 
was  indeed, strongly  suggestive  of  a  cold. 

"  '  What  a  blessing  the  nasal  duct  is,  my  boy  !  Women's 
emotions  overflow  at  their  beautiful  eyes,  while  ours — well, 
they  drain  away  in  the  guise  of  a  beastly  cold  in  the  head, 
thus  enabling  us  to  remain  imperturbable  in  the  face  of  dis- 
turbing emotions.' 

"  Having  blown  my  nose  a  few  times,  I  said,  'Goon,  Abe.' 

"  '  But  I's  gwine  tell  yo'  'bout  ernuddah  bird  dat  done 
beats  'em  all,  Marse  Doctah.  Er  long  time  fo'  de  war,  I 
wuz  workin'  'longde  'Sippy  ribbah,  doin'  roust-'boutin'  an'  all 
dat  so't  er  work,  an'  I  didn'  heah  much  er  de  mockin'  bird  down 
dar.  but  dar  wuz  ernuddah  bird  dat  I'd  heahd  sing  befo',  but 
nebbah  like  I  heahd  him  down  dar.  Dat  wuz  de  whipperwill, 
sah.  'Pears  like  dat  bird  hez  been  all  mixt  'n  tangled  up  wid 
ma  life  ebah  since.  Sing?  dar  nebbah  wuz  no  sich  singin'! 
Dey's  heahd  up  Norf  hyah  some  times,  sah,  but  nebbah  like 
dey  sings  down  Souf.  Dere  thoats  done  grow  biggah  an' 
dere  win'  gits  strongah  in  de  Souf.  W'y,  all  de  k'nary  birds, 
an'  bobolinkums,  an'  robins,  an'  blue  jays,  an'  thushes  in  de 
hull  world,  wouldn't  make  one  note  fo'  de  whipperwill ! 

44 '  'Pears  like  de  note  er  de  whipperwill  done  follah'd  me 
all  obah  de  Souf.  I  'membah  when  I  wuz  er  courtin'  ma  po' 
Elsa,  dat's  been  sleepin'  wTid  our  po'  little  Aby — de  brightes', 
brackes',  woolly-headed  little  pick'ninny  dat  ebah  wuz  bawn, 
sah — fo'  so  many  yeahs,  de  whipperwill  done  gone  made  mo" 
lub  dan  I  did.  I  doan'  know  wheddah  yo'  ebbah  felt  dat 
erway,  sah,  but  when  eberyting  dat  yo'  wants  ter  say 
comes  up  inside  er  yo'  collar  an'  done  mos'  smuddah  yo',  it's 
kine  er  handy  ter  hab  er  bird  'roun'  dat  knows  de  bizncss, 
an's  willin'  ter  gib  yo  '  er  han'.  Dat's  de  kine  ob  bird  de 
whipperwill  is,  sah. 

"'Po'  Elsa!  an' ma  precious  little  Aby!  Yo's  sleepin' 
whar  no  ebenin'  shades  '11  ebbah  fall,  widout  bringin'  de 
sweet  song  er  de  whipperwill! — 

" '  D'  yo'  know,  sah,  dat  de  song  er  dat  bird  wuz  er  big 
part  er  my  gittin'  'ligion?  Yes,  sah,  dat's  so,  an'  I'll  tell  yo' 
'bout  how  'twuz.  Yo'  see,  Marse  Doctah,  ma  Elsa  wuz  raised 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  345 

by  ole  Jedge  Merriman  down  in  Kaintucky.  De  ole  Jedge 
wuz  er  'ligious  so't  er  fellah,  an'  I  mus'  say  dat  he  libbed 
up  ter  his  'fashions  'n  treated  de  niggahs  jes'  like  dey  wuz 
his  own  chillun. — Doan'  s'pose  you  folks  up  Norf  undahstan' 
nuffin  'bout  dat,  sah,  but  dar's  many  er  po'  ole  niggah  dat 
wish  dar  nebbah  wuz  no  war ! 

" '  Well,  Elsa  done  got  'ligion,  jes'  like  de  res'  er  de 
fam'ly.  She  wuz  er  yallah  gal — er  reg'lar  yallah  rose  she 
wuz,  too — an'  use  ter  wait  on  ole  Miss  Merriman.  Now, 
when  Elsa  marr'd  me,  she  knowed  jes'  whut  she  wuz  doin'. 
She  took  de  bigges'  contrack  on  her  han's  dat  she  ebbah 
tackled  in  all  her  bawn  days.  Yo'  see  marster,  I  larned 
some  tings  when  I  wuz  er  young  buck,  dat  wuzn't  none  too 
good  fo'  er  niggah  nohow.  I  wuz  on  dem  'Sippy  ribbah  boats 
er  heap  too  much,  an'  one  er  my  young  marsters  wuz  er  blood, 
an'  done  teached  me  mo'  'boutgamblin'  an'  racin'  bosses,  dan 
wuz  good  fo'  er  plain,  orn'ry,  ebery-day  moke  like  I  wuz. 
But  Elsa  made  er  new  niggah  out  er  me  sah,  an'  I  tought 
she  mout  be  sats'fied;  but  sakes  alibe,  marster,  she  wuzn't! 
She  done  kep'  er  dingin'  erway  at  me,  'till  I  jes'  couldn't 
stan'  it  no  longah  sah,  an'  den  I  promis'  dat  I'd  speak  right 
out  in  meetin',  an'  'fess  up  dat  I  wuz  er  wicked  sinnah  man, 
an'  git  de  grace  ob  de  Lawd,  an'  de  fo'gibness  er  Christ  dat 
'ud  wash  ma  haht  like  washin'  de  lam's  in  de  brook,  ready 
fo'  de  shearin'. 

" '  One  ebenin',  atter  de  sun  went  down  obah  de  range 
er  hills  behind  ouah  little  cabin,  Elsa  took  me  ter  de  do', 
an'  pinted  ter  de  ole  log  meetin'  house  'way  up  on  de  side  er 
de  hill  on  de  town  road,  an'  sez  ter  me — "Abr'ham,  ma 
husban',  ma  deah  ole  man,  dar  is  de  temple  er  de  Lawd,  on 
de  hill  er  Zion!  Dar's  gwine  ter  be  er  meetin'  dar  ter  night, 
an'  dar's  gwine  ter  be  de  bigges'  rasslin'  match  dat  ebah  yo' 
seed.  Ole  Marse  Satan's  gwine  ter  hab  er  rassle  wid  de 
sarv'nts  er  de  Lawd,  an'  I  want's  yo',  ma  honey,  ter  be  dar, 
an'  take  er  han'  in  de  rasslin'  on  yo'  own  ercount.  Dar's  de 
road  ter  salbation,  Abr'ham;  take  it,  an'  doan'  show  yo' 
brack  face  in  dis  yeh  cabin  agin,  'less'n  yo'  comes  wid  de 
sperrit  er  de  Lawd  in  yo'  haht!" 

"'Now,  Marse  Doctah,  I  ain'  gwine  ter  say  dat  I  didn' 


346 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


look  back, while  I  wuz  er  clim'in'  dat  ole  hill.  'Pear'd  like  I 
wuz  er  walkin'  mo'n  fo'teen  miles,  'fo'  I  done  retch  dat  ar 
meetin'  house,  an'  all  er  de  way,  it  done  seemed  like  I  didn' 
hab  no  choosin'  'bout  de  mattah.  In  front  er  me  wuz  de 
debb'l,  an'  behind  me  wuz  Elsa  an'  de  baby.  Well,  I  jes'  kep' 
'long-  er  clim'in',  an'  er  clim'in'-  dat's  whut  I  did,  sah,  an'  all 


de  while  I  wuz 
makin'  up  ma 
mine  dat  ole 
Marse  Satan  wuz 
g-wine  ter  hab  de 
tussle  er  his  life 
soon  ez  I  done 
retched  'im. 

"  "Bout  de  time 
r,  ,,  I  wuzer  stampin' 
on  de  old  debb'l 
— in  ma  mine — I  'ribed  at  de  do'  er  de  place  whar  de  fig-htin' 
wuz  g-wine  on.  Tell  yo'  whut,  marster,  dar  ain'  no  use  talkin', 
dat  ole  debb'l  is  a  pow'ful  plucky  fellah!  Wy,  de  shoutin' 
an'  de  sing-in'  in  dar,  done  skeered  dis  nig-g-ah  mos'  ter  def ! 
But  dar  wuz  some  g-lad  sing-in'  in  dar,  too,  an'  I  heahed  er 


"GO  TER  SLEEP,  OH  MAMMY'S  LITTLE  BRACK  LAM' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  347 

voice  dat  soun'  mighty  sweet  ter  me.  'Peared  like  it  wuz  er 
voice  dat  sounded  loudah  an'  sweetah  dan  all  de  uddahs. 
Dis  chile  ain'  bery  'stitious,  sah,  but  I  nebbah  could  fine  out 
who  dat  wuz  er  sing-in'  dat  er  way,  an'  sho's  yo'  bawn,  sah, 
while  I  wuz  er  list'nin',  dat  ole  meetin'  house  done  faded 
away  jes'  like  er  fog-,  an'  I  seed  er  little  house  dat  I  use  ter 
know  'way  down  in  Georg-y,  many,  many  yeahs  befo'!  Doan' 
know  how  'twuz,  Marster,  but  ming-lin'  wid  de  voice  dat  wuz 
er  sing-in',  "Jesus  washed  ma  sins  away,"  wuz  ernuddah 
voice  dat  seemed  ter  come  outen  de  windah  ob  de  little 
Georg-y  home,  an'  sho's  yo'  lib,  sah,  'twuz  ma  ole  mammy 
sing-in'— 

"Now  go  ter  sleep,  oh  mammy's  little  black  lam', 
Yo'  daddy's  comin'  back  fum  ole  Alabam'.  " 

"  'I  didn'  tell  yo'  all,  'bout  how  ole  Marse  Trumbull  hed 
sich  er  lot  er  trouble  'bout  ma  daddy,  did  I?  Well,  he 
b'long-ed  ter  Kunnel  Barbah,  an'  de  ole  Kunnel  'n  Marse 
Trumbull  hed  er  fallin'  out  'bout  er  hog-  trade,  an'  ole 
man  Barbah  done  sole  ma  daddy  off  inter  Alabamy,  jes' 
cayse  he  knowed  dat  Marse  Trumbull  wuz  bery  fond  er  ma 
mammy,  cayse  she  nussed  him  thoo  de  tyfus  febah  one 
time.  Ole  marse  done  promis'  dat  he'd  buy  ma  daddy 
back,  but  jes'  like  all  ouah  folks  he  wuz  pow'ful  slow  'bout 
tings  like  dat.  'Twuz  mo'n  er  yeah,  fo'  he  g-ot  de  chance 
ter  buy  him  fum  a  Alabamy  tradah,  an'  de  way  dat  ole  tradah 
done  skun  ma  ole  marster  wuz  er  caution  ter  white  folks. 
But  ef  ole  marse  could  er  watched  de  inside  er  dat  little  cabin, 
an'  seed  de  way  ma  mammy  took  on  obah  ma  daddy,  he'd  done 
t'ought  dat  job  er  nussin'  come  pretty  cheap,  arter  all. 

"'But  whar  wuz  I?  Oh  yes,  I  'membah,  sah,  I  wuz 
standin'  at  de  do'  ob  de  ole  meetin'  house  er  list'nin'  to  de 
sing-in' — an'  lookin'  cl'ar  pas'  de  ole  chu'ch  'n  way  off  down  in 
Georg-y.— 

"  'Bye  'n  bye,  while  I  wuz  er  lookin',  de  sing-in'  died  er- 
way,  an'  de  little  Georg-y  home  faded  inter  de  g-ad'rin'  gloom 
er  de  ebenin',  an'  I  foun'  masef  dar  at  de  do'  ob  de  ole  meetin' 
house,an'  eberyting  wuz  quiet,  jes'  like  I  wuz  all  'lone  up  dar 
on  de  hill — Dey  wuz  er  prayin'  ter  deresefs  in  dar. 

"  'I  stood  dar  er  while,  tinkin'  wheddah  I  bettah  go  'long 


348  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

in,  er  gwine  home,  an'  fine'ly  I  done  'cided  dat  I  wuz  a 
ole  foolish  ter  'low  ma  wife  to  shove  me  inter  de  chu'ch  jes' 
like  I  wuz  er  man  whut  didn'  know  his  own  mine.  "I'll  jes' 
g'  'long-  home,"  sez  I  ter  masef,  "an'  I'll  show  ma  wife 
dat  I's  de  boss  er  de  roos',  er  else  I's  gwine  hiah  some 
uddah  niggah  ter  kick  me,  good  'n  hard!"  Wid  dat  in  ma 
mine  I  done  turned  erway,  an'  wuz  jes'  gwine  ter  go  down  de 
hill,  when  I  heahed  er  sweet  soun',  'way  below  tow'ds  ma 
little  cabin,  dat  made  me  stop  right  dar  whar  I  wuz. 
'  "  Whip 'will!"  'Way  down  dar,  'mong  de  trees  in  de  ribbah 
bottom,  ma  pet  bird  wuz  er  callin'  ter  me  jes'  ez  ef  he  wuz 
boun'  ter  make  me  heah  'im. 

'"Whip'will!  whipperwill!  whip-per-will!  whip-per- 
will-1-1!" 

"  '  'Peard  like  dat  bird  done  knowed  I  wuz  er  list'nin' 
ter  his  sweet  melodium,  fo'  soon  ez  I  stopped,  he  poured  out 
sich  er  waterfall  er  music,  dat  inside  er  two  minnits  he  done 
bed  me  cryin'  like  er  baby.  Dat  wuz  er  mighty  'fectin' 
song,  dat  bird  wuz  er  singin',  an'  'twuz  mo'  argyfyin'  dan  all 
de  preachahs  dat  ebah  wuz  bawn. 

"  'Well,  sah,  I  jes'  turned  'roun'  an'  went  back  ter  de 
do',  an'  den  I  didn'  wait  er  minnit,  I  j  es'  went  inside  an'  kneeled 
down  at  de  mo'ners'  bench,  an'  dar  I  done  prayed  an'  rassled 
fo'  grace,  an'  fit  de  ole  debb'l  till  I  felt  de  ole  rask'l  git 
up  'n  git  outen  ma  soul  jes'  like  er  'coon  er  scootin'  outen  de 
cawn  fiel'  when  de  dawgs  done  chase  'im.  An'  dende  sperrit 
er  de  Lawd  'n  de  pur'fication  ob  de  Holy  Ghost  done  clime 
inter  ma  haht,  an'  I  knowed  dat  I  wuz  free  f um  ole  Marse  Satan, 
an' all  ma  sins  an'  'gressions  wuz  wash't  erway  in  de  blood  er 
de  Lam'.  Fo'  Gawd,  marster!  I  wuz  jes'  as  light  'n  free  ez 
er  goose's  feddah  flyin'  in  de  win'! 

"'An'  den  dey  done  got  thoo  prayin'  an'  rasslin',  an' 
went  ter  singin'  agin.  I  done  jined  in  de  singin'  an'  we  all 
made  er  gre't  big  noise,  but  thoo  it  all  I  cud  heah  de  sweet 
voice  er  de  whipperwill,  singin'  er  glad  song  er  praise  ter  de 
Lawd. 

"'Arter  de  meetin'  bruk  up,  I  went  home  all  'lone  by 
masef,  an'  all  de  way  I  could  heah  dat  bressed  bird  callin'  ter 
me  jes'  like  he'd  won  er  gre't  fight.  Deed'n  he  had,  Marse 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


349 


Doctah,  an  when  I  got  home  I  done  tole  ma  sweet  Elsa  all 
'bout  dat  bird  an'  de  help  dat  he  gib  me,  when  I  wuz  er  tot- 
terin'  on  de  brink  er  hell  'n  jes'  'bout  ter  fall  inter  de  arms  ob 


ole  Satan.  I  didn' 
make  no  bones 
'bout  tellin'  her 
how  I  wuz  tern 'ted 
by  de  debb'l,  an' I 
knows  dat  she 
wuz  proudah  ob 
me  dan  ebah  befo', 
jes'  on  'count  er 
dat  tem'tation. 

'"While  I  wuz 
er  tellin'  her  'bout 
ma'  sperience,  she 
wuz  rockin'  ouah 
deah  little  Aby  ter 
sleep  an'  hummin' 
er  lull'by  dat  de 
baby  use  ter  lub. 
'Pear'd  like  dar 
wuz  teahs  in  her 
voice,  an'I'm'mos' 
sho'  I  seed  two  draps,  jes'  like  di'mons,  tricklin'  down  her 
cheeks. 


'I  SEED  ER  LITTLE  HOUSE  I  USE  TER    KNOW. 


350  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  Alter  Aby  done  gone  ter  sleep,  Elsa  put  him  in  his 
little  crib,  an'  said  ter  me — "Abr'ham,  come  ter  de  windah 
wid  me." 

"  'De  moon  wuz  er  shinin',  an'  de  stahs  wuz  all  sparklin' 
like  dew  draps  atter  de  rain.  Thoo  de  windah  I  could  see 
de  lights  er  de  boats  on  de  ribbah,  an'  smell  de  sweet  summah 
breeze  wid  its  'fume  ob  magnolias  'n  roses  dat  wuz  den  in  full 
bloom. 

"  '  Ebery  ting  wuz  still  at  fust,  but  all  ob  er  sudd'n  er 
sweet  voice  'way  off  at  de  aige  ob  de  wood  done  come  ter  ouah 
yeahs  like  music  fum  de  sky! 

'"Hark! "said  Elsa. 

'"Whip'will!  whipper-will!  whip-per-will!  whip-per- 
will-1-1 ! " 

'  "Abr'ham,  dar's  ouah  good  angel. 

'"De  time  may  come,  Abr'ham,  when  yo'  faithful  Elsa 
will  be  fah  erway,  whar  she  kin  nebbah  speak  ter  her  ole  man 
no  mo'.  Should  dat  time  ebah  come,  I  want  yo'  ter  'membah 
dis  bressed  night,  an'  whenebbah  yo'  doan'  know  jes'  whut 
ter  do,  jes'  list'n  ter  dat  sweet  singah,  an'  yo'll  heah  de  voice 
ob  yo'  lost  Elsa  speakin'  thoo  dem  cl'ar  notes  outen  de  sky. 
An'  when  de  time  comes,  Abr'ham,  'membah  dat  I  wants  ter 
sleep  down  dar,  whar  I  kin  heah  de  rush  in'  er  de  ole  'Sippy 
ribbah,  an'  de  voice  ob  de  whipperwill  fo'ebbah.  An'  if  ma 
baby's  spar'd  to  yo',  Abr'ham,  tell  'im  all  erbout  de  whipper- 
will, so  dat  he  kin  heah  his  po'  lost  mammy  singin'  her 
lull'by  song  to  him  ebery  night,  'till  he  comes  to  jine  her  in 
de  New  Jerus'lem." 

"  '  Marse  Doctah,  I  didn'  know  den,  how  'phetic  ma  Elsa's 
words  wuz,  but  I  didn'  sing  ouah  ebenin'  hymn  wuf  shucks 
dat  night,  cayse  ma  voice  wuz  'mos'  drownded  out  widteahs.' 

"Poor  Abe!  He  was  giving  a  very  graphic  illustration 
of  the  'drownded  '  voice  just  then,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
my  boy,  I  was  in  need  of  a  life  preserver  for  my  own  voice 
about  that  time.  But  the  old  man  gathered  himself  together 
and  proceeded  to  finish  his  story: 

"  '  Yo'  muss'n  mine  de  ole  man,sah,  he  ain'  quite  so  brave 
ez  he  use  ter  wuz.  Yo'  see,  Marse  Doctah,  de  ole  sojer's 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  351 

pooty  nigh  de  eend  er  his  fight  agin  de  world,  an'  his 
am'nishun  an'  pluck  is  bofe  'bout  runned  out.' 

"  I  could  barely  trust  my  voice  to  reassure  and  encourage 
the  old  man,  but  succeeded  in  bracing  him  up  a  little  and  he 
continued — 

" '  'Twuzn't  mo'n  fo'  monfs  arter  dat,  fo'  de  ole  Yallah 
Jack  done  struck  ouah  little  town,  an'  mos'  de  fust  mo'ners 
wuz  Elsa  'n  me.  Dat  debb'lish  febah's  hard  'nuff  on  growed 
up  folks,  but  when  it  ketch  holt  ob  er  pick'ninny,  he's  done 
gone  sho.'  Po'  little  Aby  didn'  las'  long  sah,  an'  when  we  laid 
him  ter  rest  in  dat  little  grabe  undah  de  trees,  ouah  hahts 
wuz  buried  wid  him. 

'"I  'lowed  I  couldn't  stan'  no  mo',  sah,  but  de  wust  wuz 
still  ter  come.  Ma  po'  Elsa  jes'  pined  erway  'n  died,  in  less'n 
er  monf,  atter  de  baby  died.  Dar  wuz  er  kine  ole  doctah 
down  dar,  whut  sed  dat  Elsa  hed  quick  'sumption,  an'  dat  she 
must  er  bin  sick  fo'  er  long  time  befo',  but  I  knowed  bettah 
sah — Elsa  died  cayse  her  haht  wuz  buried  down  dar  undah 
de  cypress.  I  could  lib  widout  er  haht,  but  ma  po'  yallah 
rose-bud  couldn't. 

"  'An'  so  ma  po'  wife  hed  her  wish,  an'  when  Ole  Gabe 
done  blow  his  hawn  on  de  jedgment  day,  ma  dahlin  Elsa  'n 
little  Aby  '11  see  de  ole  'Sippy  ribbah  jes'  ez  soon  ez  dey  rises 
fum  outen  dere  beds.  An',  when  de  ebenin'  shadders  fall,  de 
sweet  voice  er  de  whipperwill  is  gwine  call  me  back  ter 
ma  lubbed  ones.  An'  I  hopes,  Marse  Doctah,  dat  I  may  be 
neah  'nuff  so  dat  dese  ole  yeahs  dat's  gittin'  so  kine  er  num', 
'11  not  miss  de  call.' 

"  Dear  old  Abe,  I  know  those  poor,  dull  ears  will  hear  the 
first  call  of  the  trumpet  on  the  day  of  judgement — if  judge- 
ment day  and  trumpet  there  be.  Of  such  stuff  should  angels 
be  made,  and  I  am  sure  that  the  superintendent  of  the 
machinery  that  turns  them  out,  will  not  notice  the  color  of  the 
raw  material. — 

"  What  became  of  him? 

"  Well,  it's  not  a  long  story.  He  died  some  twelve  years 
since — died  as  he  had  lived,  trying  to  do  his  duty  according 
to  his  lights. 

"The  old  man  had  been  growing  quite  feeble  for  some 


352  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

time — indeed,  his  failing-  health  became  so  noticeable,  that  I 
several  times  ventured  to  suggest  getting-  someone  to  help 
him  at  his  chores.  The  old  man  resented  this  most  vigor- 
ously, saying  when  I  mentioned  the  subject  one  day — 'Marse 
Doctah,  whuffo'  yo'  done  speakin'  ter  de  ole  man  like  dat? 
D'  yo'  s'pose  he  ain'  got  no  feelins  'tall?  No  sah,  dar  ain'  no 
sassy  young  buck  niggah  comin'  'roun'  hyah  sah,  an'  yo' 
knows  I  kain'  stan'  no  white  trash  nohow!  Ef  yo'  gits  enny 
er  dem  Voun'  hyah,  de  ole  man  done  hit  'em  wid  de  hoe,  sah, 
sho's  yo'  bawn!  Whut  yo'  spec  dem  chillun  ud  do  widout  ole 
Abe  ter  take  keer  ob  'em,  sah?' 

"I  never  mentioned  the  subject  again.— 

"Abe  finally  became  so  ill,  that  I  was  compelled  to  per- 
emtorily  order  him  to  keep  his  bed.  He  made  a  brave  effort 
to  pull  through,  but  he  was  called,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
he  realized  it  himself.  He  said  nothing,  however,  but  was 
constantly  calling  for  the  children  to  come  and  visit  him.  He 
could  not  content  himself  when  they  were  out  of  his  sight. 
Of  course,  we  humored  the  old  man  as  much  as  possible. 
We  were  all  very  fond  of  him — indeed,  WTC  felt  that  one  of  the 
pillars  of  the  household  was  passing  away  from  us. 

"My  eldest  daughter — who  was  always  'little  missy  '  to 
him,  and  of  whom  he  was  especially  fond — cared  for  the  old 
man  most  tenderly.  Day  after  day,  she  read  to  him  from  the 
bible  or  sang  simple  little  Sunday  school  hymns  for  him. 
When  she  would  ask  him  what  he  wanted  her  to  sing  or  read, 
he  would  smile  as  only  a  simple-minded  darkey  can,  and  say: 
'Read  an'  sing  sumpen  'bout  de  New  Jerus'lem,  little  missy. 

"One  day  the  old  man  was  taken  with  a  sudden  attack  of 
syncope,  and  I  was  hurriedly  sent  for.  I  succeeded  in  re- 
viving him  somewhat,  but  it  was  only  too  evident  that  'Old 
Abe  '  was  already  hailing  the  grim  ferryman  who  was  to  take 
him  '  'cross  the  ribbah.' 

"I  had  just  given  the  old  man  a  hypodermic  of  digitalis 
and  brandy,  when  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  looking  up  at  me 
with  the  old  smile,  said  —  Ts  bery  much  'bleeged,  sah, 
'deed'n  I  is,  but  'tain  no  use — 'deed'n  'taint.  Yo's  mos'  de 
greates'  fersishun  dat  ebbah  libbed— 'cep'n'  jes'  one,  sah, 
but  de  whipperwill's  callin',  an'  ma  Elsa  an'  little  Aby  is 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


353 


waitin'  fo'  de  ole  man.  I's  gwine  ter  sleep  now,  sah,  I's 
jes'  plum  tiahed  out.  An'  doan'  fo'git,  marster,  'bout  ma 
yeahs  gittin'  num',  so  I  mus'  be  neah  when  de  whipper- 
will  calls.' 

"And  then  the  old  man  fell  asleep. — 

"Such  was  the  passing1  of  'Old  Abe.'  If  the  old  man's 
creed  was  right,  he  is  still  a  musical  critic  in  a  land  where  all 
sounds  are  sweet. 

"When  he  wakes  from  his  long  sleep,  he  will  indeed  be 
'neah' — so  near  that  even  his  'num"  ears  will  hear  the  song 
'ob  de  whipperwill. '  I  buried  the  old  man  in  the  sunny 
southland,  beside  his  wife  and  child.  When  the  summons 
comes,  Abe,  the  'yallah  rose  '  and  the  'brack  pick'ninny '  will 
all  rise  together. 


"Bless  my  soul,  boy,  you've  been  taking1  cold,  too,  I  see! 

"I?  Well,  my  glasses  do  seem  a  little  'sweaty,'  don't 
they  ?  I  guess  some  of  the  rose  water  in  this  blessed  hookah 
must  get  into  the  smoke  occasionally,  eh  ? 

"Wrap  yourself  up  well,  my  boy;  it's  bitter  cold  out. 

"Ah !     How  beautiful  the  stars  are ! 

"Well,  good  night,  my  boy,  good  night,  and  don't  forget 
that  I  shall  expect  you  again  soon." 


POKER  JIM— GENTLEMAN. 


I. 


AY,  stranger,  will  ye   hev 

er  smoke? 
No?    Why,  whut  on  airth 

ails  ye,  air  ye  sick  ? 
I've   heerd  folks   say   no, 

jes'  ter  joke. 
But    they've    most    allers 

•weakened  purty  quick, 
Jes'  try  er  pull  et  my  ole 

clay — 
It   aint    no    meerschaum, 

thet's  er  fack, 
But    when    ye    wants    er 

smoke — I  say 
Thar's  nuthin'  like  it,  tho' 

'tis,  ole  an*  black, 


PLUCKING   A    PIGEON. 


POKER  JIM— GENTLEMAN. 


I. 


HE  doctor  had  been  called  away 
during  the  afternoon,  and  had 
not  yet  returned.  His  wife, 
however,  said  that  she  had  re- 
ceived a  telephone  message 
from  him  a  short  time  before 
my  arrival,  informing-  her  that 
he  would  soon  be  home.  The 
doctor  was  kind  enough  to  add, 
that  in  case  I  called,  I  was  to  be 
asked  to  wait  for  him. 

"A  night  off"  is  by  no  means 
common  in  the  life  of  a  medical  student,  and  when  one's  plans 
for  spending  it  pleasantly  are  disturbed,  an  impromptu  re- 
arrangement of  the  evening's  programme  is  both  difficult  and 
disagreeable,  so  I  gladly  accepted  the  doctor's  kind  invitation, 
and  awaited  his  home-coming  as  patiently  as  possible. 

The  doctor's  library  was  a  most  interesting  and  com- 
fortable place,  especially  for  one  of  my  studious  proclivities, 
and  the  man  who  could  not  find  recreation  and  enjoyment 
within  its  sacred  walls,  must  be  dense  and  unappreciative 
indeed. 

On  this  occasion,  however,  I  was  not  feeling  in  my  usual 
vein  of  exuberant  spirits,  and  my  waiting  was  barely  endur- 
able, despite  my  pleasant  surroundings. 

I  had  been  unfortunate  enough  to  quarrel  with  my  room- 
mate— an  old  friend  and  boyhood  playmate,  hailing  from  the 
same  town  as  myself.  As  is  usually  the  case,  the  cause  of 
the  misunderstanding  was  of  trifling  importance  and  might 


360  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

have  been  passed  over  without  the  slightest  trouble,  had  not 
both  my  friend  and  myself  been  unreasonable  and  stubborn. 

I  had  a  dim  consciousness  that  I  was  in  the  wrong-,  yet 
my  friend  had  appeared  to  assume  such  an  arrogant  air  of 
superiority  that  it  would  have  required  more  than  human 
endurance  to  tolerate  it — at  least,  so  I  thought  at  the  time. 

As  I  sat  waiting1  for  the  doctor,  I  finally  consoled  myself 
with  the  reflection  that  I  at  least  had  a  pleasant  evening-  before 
me — one  which  was  likely  to  dispel  the  disagreeable  recol- 
lections of  the  day. 

When  the  doctor  finally  arrived,  it  was  at  once  evident 
to  me  that  my  trials  and  tribulations  were  of  little  moment 
compared  with  those  of  a  busy  practitioner,  especially  in 
disagreeable  weather. 

There  had  been  quite  a  heavy  snowstorm  during-  the 
afternoon,  and  toward  evening-,  a  biting-,  drifting  wind  had 
come  up,  turning  the  storm  into  a  fine,  icy  sleet,  that  stung 
one's  skin  sharply,  like  needles  and  pins.  From  the  doctor's 
appearance,  one  might  have  supposed  that  the  storm  had  con- 
centrated its  fury  upon  him.  His  nose  and  ears  were  purple- 
red,  bordered  with  an  almost-frozen,  frost-bitten  white,  that 
fairly  made  a  fellow's  own  nose  and  ears  tingle  to  look  at 
them.  His  great  coat  was  covered  with  a  mail-like  layer  of 
sleet,  that  cracked  and  crinkled  at  every  movement  he 
made.  His  moustache  wras  stiff  and  hard  with  frost,  and  his 
long  luxuriant  beard  looked  like  a  mass  of  stalactites,  so 
heavy  was  it  with  icicles.  Taken  all  in  all,  Doctor  Weymouth 
was,  just  then,  far  more  picturesque  than  comfortable  in 
appearance. 


"Well,  my  boy,  I  am  a  little  storm-beaten,  but  you  see  I 
am  on  hand  as  usual.  I  have  had  more  annoyances  than  com- 
mon to-day.  The  streets  are  in  an  awful  condition,  and  my 
horse  has  managed  to  keep  his  feet  only  about  half  the  time. 
It  is  remarkable  that  I  have  been  able  to  pull  through  the 
day  without  serious  accident.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  did  have 
a  mishap  on  the  way  home.  My  horse  fell  down,  and  in  fall- 
ing broke  a  trace.  I  succeeded  in  repairing  it,  temporarily, 
with  my  pocket  knife  and  a  bit  of  string,  so  that  I  was  ena- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  361 

bled  to  get  home  without  further  trouble.  You  see,  young- 
man,  a  doctor  in  general  practice  needs  to  be  something1  of  a 
jack-of-all-trades. 

"But  I  have  not  allowed  either  storm  or  accident  to  dis- 
turb my  temper  to-day — I  have  been  good-natured  ever  since 
I  made  my  first  call  this  morning. 

"One  of  my  pet  children,  a  dear  little  girl,  seven  years  of 
age,  has  been  very  ill  with  broncho-pneumonia  for  a  week. 
The  disease  followed  an  attack  of  measles,  and  bade  fair  to 
destroy  the  child's  life.  Indeed,  when  I  made  my  evening 
call  yesterday,  I  informed  the  child's  mother  that  I  had  but 
little  hope  of  her  recovery.  The  little  one  had  at  that  time  a 
very  high  temperature,  was  delirious,  and  plainly  showed 
those  effects  of  defective  aeration  of  the  blood  that  are  so 
frequently  seen  in  such  cases,  and  which  bear  so  pertinently 
upon  the  question  of  recovery. 

"Although  the  case  seemed  so  hopeless,  I  resolved  to 
make  a  desperate  attempt  to  save  the  little  one's  life,  and 
ordered  the  cold  wet  pack,  with  liberal  quantities  of  stimu- 
lants. So  fearful  were  the  child's  parents  of  the  possible 
evil  effects  of  the  cold  wet  sheet,  that  I  am  certain  I  would 
have  had  no  opportunity  of  using  it  with  their  consent,  had 
not  the  little  girl's  death  been  apparently  a  foregone  conclu- 
sion. 

"What  was  my  delight,  therefore,  on  calling  this  morn- 
ing, to  find  the  sweet  child  practically  out  of  danger  and  in  a 
fair  way  to  recover. 

"I  assure  you,  my  young  friend,  the  practice  of  medicine 
has  some  rewards  that  are  neither  earthly  gold  nor  promise 
of  paradise,  but  better  than  either.  The  consciousness  that 
the  world  owes  a  valuable  and  beloved  life  to  the  art  of  medi- 
cine, as  practiced  by  one's  self,  is  a  reward  that  makes  our 
profession  well  worth  the  following.  Occasionally  you  may 
be  able  to  add  to  your  sum  total  of  rewards,  the  gratitude  of 
those  to  whom  you  have  saved  a  loved  one,  but  this  is  excep- 
tional— the  obligation  of  the  average  man  or  woman  is  can- 
celled, in  their  estimation  and  in  that  of  society,  with  the  pay- 
ment of  the  bill — when  it  is  paid.  Should  the  bill  not  be  paid, 
the  honor  of  the  family's  patronage  is  more  than  sufficient 


362  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

compensation  in  the  eyes  of  some  good  people,  even  though 
your  grocer  will  not  accept  it  in  payment  for  groceries,  and 
your  butcher  regards  it  with  distrust. 

"The  gratitude  and  affection  of  that  dear  little  girl,  and 
the  mere  consciousness  of  a  duty  well  done,  can  be  relied 
upon,  however — there  could  be  no  fairer  reward  for  one  who 
loves  his  profession.  Other  compensation,  in  such  cases,  is 
less  than  a  secondary  consideration. 

"But  I  must  get  something  to  sustain  the  inner  man,  or 
you  will  not  find  me  very  entertaining  this  evening.  I  can- 
not talk  comfortably  or  intelligently  on  an  empty  stomach. 
You  will  doubtless  find  something  in  the  library  to  amuse 
you  until  I  have  finished  my  supper." 


"Do  you  know,my  boy,  I  fancied  you  looked  a  little  glum, 
when  I  came  in  this  evening?  What  is  troubling  you? — 

"Is  that  all?  Well, sir,  you  mustn't  allow  such  trifles  to 
worry  you.  I  doubt  not  that  your  friend  is  feeling  quite  as 
much  disturbed  as  yourself,  and  I  am  sure  that  both  of  you 
now  realize  that  your  trifling  difference  of  opinion  was  not 
worth  quarreling  about. 

"  From  what  I  have  heard  you  say  of  your  young  friend, 
I  am  led  to  believe  him  to  be  a  worthy  fellow,  and  as  he  is  an 
old  neighbor  and  schoolmate  of  yours,  his  friendship  is  prob- 
ably too  valuable  to  lose  over  a  petty  altercation. 

"Such  matters  are  easily  remedied.  Mutual  explana- 
tions are  best,  but  sometimes  dangerous.  They  require 
much  tact,  lest  the  quarrel  be  renewed,  for  each  party  to  the 
misunderstanding  is  likely  to  feel  that  the  burden  of  explana- 
tion or  apology  should  rest  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  other. 
Possibly,  therefore,  it  might  be  best  for  you  two  worthy 
young  gentlemen,  to  say  nothing,  but  conduct  yourselves 
toward  each  other  as  though  not  even  a  ripple  had  ever  dis- 
turbed the  placid  waters  of  your  friendship. 

"  Youthful  friendships  are  too  precious  to  be  broken 
through  slight  misunderstandings  ;  they  are  always  pleasant, 
because  as  unselfish  as  they  are  numerous. 

"Dumas'  hero,  the  Chevalier  D'Artagnan,  some  years 
after  those  stirring  adventures  which  are  recounted  in  that 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  363 

wonderful  story,  "The  Three  Musketeers,"  replied  to  the 
question  of  Cardinal  Mazarin  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  his 
three  old-time  friends — 'Friends? — What  friends?  At 
twenty,  sir,  every-one  is  one's  friend!' 

"  There  was  much  of  philosophy  in  this  somewhat  cynical 
remark.  Let  the  thinking-  man  of  forty,  look  back  and  around 
him,  and  ask,  '  Where  are  my  friends?'  He  will  not  require 
much  mathematical  skill  to  enable  him  to  count  them. 

"Youth,  suffuses  friendship  with  its  own  rosy  glow; 
youth,  is  tender  and  unselfish;  youth,  knows  naught  of 
duplicity  and  double  dealing-;  youth, has  never  fought  its  way 
up  the  ladder  of  fame  and  fortune,  every  round  of  which 
holds  a  'friend' — who  will  not  share  it  with  the  new-comer 
save  at  the  price  of  a  few  drops  of  his  heart's  blood;  youth, 
has  never  felt  the  touch  of  the  commercial  steel,  wielded  by  a 
'friend;'  youth,  in  its  generous  rivalries,  has  not  tasted  the 
bitter  fruit  of  disappointment  in  love  or  worldly  fortune  at 
the  hands  of — its  'friends.' 

"  My  boy,  the  smoke  of  the  hookah  brings  visions  to  me 
to-night,  that  are  not  so  fair  as  those  which  youth's  cigar 
erstwhile  painted  upon  the  boundless  horizon  of  hope.  Why 
did  Nature  permit  us  to  have  memories?  At  my  time  of  life, 
does  not  memory  bring  to  the  average  man  more  pain  than 
pleasure?  However  beautiful  the  fancies  that  memory's 
faithful  brush  may  paint  upon  the  roseate  skies  of  our 
dreams,  they  still  belong  to  that  bitter  entity — the  past. 
The  most  phantasmagoric  dream  of  future  bliss  is  sweeter 
far  than  all  the  happiness  that  memories  of  the  past  can 
show.  '  The  mill  will  never  grind  with  the  water  that  has 
passed;'  the  soul  may  not  revel  in  joys  that  are  gone — its 
goal  of  happiness,  its  ideal  of  bliss,  lies  in  that  shadowy  land, 
the  future. 

"Fools  live  in  the  present;  the  old,  in  their  dotage,  live 
in  the  past;  while  to  the  wise,  the  future  alone  makes  life 
worth  the  living. 

"Someone  has  written  some  charming,  though  unique, 
little  verses  that  are  very  expressive  of  at  least  a  few  of  the 
thoughts  I  have  so  inadequately  expressed.  I  fancy  I  can 
see  the  man  who  wrote  them,  whoever  he  may  be,  as  the 


364  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

inspiration  came  to  him  over  his  cigar — that  was  half  dead 
ash  and  half  aglow. — 

'  When  I  was  young-  and  my  hair  was  thick 
And  purse  was  thin,  I  used  to  smoke 
Cigars  that  now  would  make  me  sick — 
Yet  from  their  fumes  I  would  evoke 
Such  visions  as  I  never  see, 
Now  I  am  old. 

Within  each  rank  cheroot  rolled  tight, 
A  world  of  dreams  there  seemed  to  be— 
I  conquered  new  fields  every  night; 
One  such  cigar  would  conquer  me, 
Now  I  am  old. 

Some  of  those  dreams  I  can't  forget, 
And  some  came  true;  I've  wealth,  and  fame/ 
And  one — 'twas  but  a  dream,  and  yet — 
I'm  shaking  still,  and  much  the  same, 
Now  I  am  old. 

I  recollect  that  those  cigars 
That  brought  that  faithless  dream  to  me, 
Turned  bitterest  ashes,  well — let  be, 
Let  ashes  cover  up  old  scars, 
Now  I  am  old. 

Ah  me  ! — I'm  fifty  odd, 

My  hair  is  thin,  my  purse  is  stout — -and  so  am  I; 
I  take  not  half  the  comfort  in 
The  best  "perfectos"  one  can  buy, 
And  visions  I  no  longer  see, 
While  smoke — 'tis  only  smoke  to  me, 
Now  I  am  old. ' 

"  Yes,  my  boy,  there  is  an  abundance  of  sentiment  in  that 
little  bit  of  rhyme— and  there's  still  more  of  philosophy  in 
those  few  lines,  pessimistic  though  they  are. 

"  It  is  only  as  one  approaches  middle  life,  that  he  begins 
to  realize  that  the  joys  of  true  friendship  are  a  part  of  the 
halcyon  days  of  youth;  they  belong-  not  to  that  later  life  in 
which  fair  dreams  of  the  future  are  replaced  by  bitter  recol- 
lections of  the  past — bitter  because  they  are  of  the  past,  if 
for  no  other  reason.  We  speak  of  the  friends  of  our  later 
years,  and  our  hearts  grow  kinder,  but  the  fairy  Youth  no 
longer  illumines  the  soul  with  the  kindly  light  of  unselfish 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  365 

affection  and  rosy  hope.  Life  is  no  longer  a  brightly  glow- 
ing promise;  it  is  a  fixed,  prosy  and  all  too  realistic  fact,  a 
humdrum  buzzing  of  the  wheel  of  existence,  grinding  such 
little  sentiment  as  may  be  left,  out  of  our  bosoms,  and  event- 
ually reducing  even  our  corporeal  selves,  into  the  universal 
dust. 

"The  friendship  of  youth  seems  far  different  from  that  of 
our  later  life — the  friends  of  the  olden  time  may  now  perhaps 
appear  unreal.  The  friend  of  our  youth  is  but  a  masque  in 
the  early  hours  of  our  carnival  of  sentiment.  Time  goes  on, 
the  hour  of  unmasking  arrives,  and  we  see  behind  the  mask, 
a  face  in  which  the  mighty  struggle  of  existence  has  left  lines 
of  care  and  sorrow,  and  furrows  of  selfishness.  The  eyes 
no  longer  gleam  with  the  frank  and  open  ingenuousness  of 
youthful  affection— the  crystal-like  soul  that  once  animated 
them  is  fled,  and  we  now  find  ourselves  looking  into  a  well,  of 
unknown  depth,  poisoned  by  the  cupidity  of  commercial 
strife  or  the  mercilessness  of  selfish  ambition  and  greed  for 
fame.  Looking  back,  we  think  of  the  days  before  the  mask 
came  off — and  we  think  of  them  with  bitter  regret. 

"  Old  friends,  the  friends  of  youth — a  health  to  thee ! 
Of  all  that  devoted  band  who  once  gathered  about  the  stand- 
ard of  my  own  unselfish,  unreserved  affection,  there  remain 
but  few.  How  long  before  they  too,  will  be  but  a  sad,  and  per- 
haps bitter,  memory  of  the  days  when  the  world  was  new  and 
honest — in  outward  seeming,at  least. 

"  Frank,  my  boy,  hold  to  the  old  friendships  as  long  as 
you  may — they  will  drift  away  all  too  fast.  New  friends  will 
never  quite  fill  the  places  of  the  old.  Old  friends  were  at 
least  unselfish,  once — however  much  they  may  have  changed 
under  the  scorching  sun  of  life's  meridian. 

"New  friends,  developed  under  the  glare  of  life's  noon- 
day sun,  come  to  us  already  tinctured  with  the  gall  and  worm- 
wood of  life. 

"Heigho!  I  fear  that  I  am,  after  all,  something  of  a  pessi- 
mist. But  the  man  who  begins  his  career  with  the  most  ex- 
alted estimate  and  appreciation  of  friendship  and  all  it  im- 
plies, is  the  one  who  is  most  likely  to  become  pessimistic  with 
the  lapse  of  time. 


366  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  The  author  of  these  beautiful  lines  had  evidently  some- 
thing- of  my  sentiment  with  none  of  my  pessimism.— 

'  Make  new  friends,  but  keep  the  old  ; 
Those  are  silver,  these  are  gold. 
New-made  friendships,  like  new  wine, 
Ag-e  must  mellow  and  refine. 

Friendships  that  have  stood  the  test 
Of  time  and  change,  are  surely  best, 
Brow  may  wrinkle,  hair  turn  gray, 
Friendship  never  knows  decay. 

For  'mid  old  friends,  tried  and  true, 
Once  more  we  may  our  youth  renew. 
But  old  friends,  alas  !  may  die — 
New  friends  must  then  their  place  supply. 

Cherish  friendship  in  your  breast, 
New  is  good,  but  old  is  best ; 
Make  new  friends,  but  keep  the  old, 
Those  are  silver,  these  are  gold. ' 

"But,  my  boy,  my  sentimental,  sometimes  pessimistic 
reflections,  are  hardly  suitable  for  the  entertainment  of  a 
young-  man  whose  ocular  media  are  still  tinted  rose-color, 
besides,  I  am  supposed  to  be  enacting  the  r&le  of  a  story-teller. 

"As  I  have  already  thoug-ht  of  a  subject,  I  may  as  well 
begin  without  further  preliminaries." 


"It  was  in  the  spring-  of  1860,  that  the  faculty  of  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania  concluded  to  confer  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Medicine  upon  your  humble  servant.  Whether  that 
now  famous  school  graduated  me  on  the  same  principle  that 
actuated  the  performers  in  a  western  band,  who  implored 
their  audiences  not  to  shoot  them,  as  they  were  doing-  the 
best  they  could,  I  cannot  say,  but  graduate  me  it  did,  and, 
as  with  all  other  students  of  medicine,  it  was  then  my 
troubles  began. 

"My  parents  were  at  that  time  living-  in  Kentucky,  in  a 
small  town  that  offered  no  inducements  to  a  young-  man  be- 
ginning- practice.  The  confidence  of  one's  old  neighbors  is 
of  even  slower  growth  than  that  beard  for  which  the  young 
doctor  yearns,  as  a  badge  of  wisdom  and  learning  that  he 
who  runs  may  read. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  367 

"The  country  in  which  I  had  spent  my  boyhood — I  was 
born  in  the  state  of  Maine — was  even  less  inviting-  than  the 
state  of  my  adoption.  It  is  possible  that  I  entertained  a  little 
of  my  mother's  prejudice  against  Yankeedom  in  those  days. 
She  was  a  native  of  Kentucky,  and  had  never  become 
thoroughly  reconciled  to  the  country  to  which  my  father  had 
taken  her  soon  after  her  marriage. 

"It  was  in  acquiescence  to  her  homesick  pleadings  that 
my  father  finally  moved  to  Kentucky,  and  settled  in  the  little 
town  wherein  my  parents  spent  the  rest  of  their  days  in 
such  happiness  and  comfort  as  persons  of  modest  means  can 
secure  only  among  the  warm-hearted,  generous  people  south 
of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line. 

"Had  my  home  surroundings  offered  any  inducements 
to  the  professional  career  I  had  planned  for  myself,  I  should 
certainly  have  returned  home  to  practice.  It  was  with  some 
twinges  of  conscience,  that  I  finally  decided  against  going 
back  to  Kentucky  to  locate — my  parents  were  living  alone, 
and  my  natural  and  conscientious  impulse  was  to  return  home 
and  do  the  best  I  could  at  practice,  as  long  as  they  should  live. 

"  There  were  but  three  of  us  children,  a  brother,  younger 
than  myself,  and  a  sister,  two  years  older.  My  sister  had 
married  a  gentleman  from  Memphis,  and  had  long  since  gone 
to  that  city  to  live.  My  young  brother  had  left  home  some 
years  before  I  graduated,  and  no  one  knew  what  had  become 
of  him,  much  to  my  regret  and  to  the  great  sorrow  of  his 
parents,  whose  favorite,  I  must  admit,  the  boy  had  ever  been. 

"Jim  had  always  been  a  wild  lad,  and  was  stamped  as  an 
incorrigible,  almost  as  soon  as  he  could  toddle  alone — it  was 
said  that  a  little  of  the  old  strain  of  Indian  blood,  with  which 
tradition  had  endowed  our  family,  had  cropped  out  in  him. 
He  was  one  of  those  rollicking,  handsome  dare-devils  that 
everybody  fears  and  loves  at  the  same  moment.  The  very 
sight  of  Jim's  black  curly  head  and  mischievous  eyes,  struck 
the  good  neighbors  with  terror.  Trouble  was  expected 
from  the  moment  that  boy  put  in  an  appearance— -and  the 
good  folks  were  seldom  disappointed.  Sometimes  they  would 
acknowledge  that  'it  might  have  been  worse,'  but  such  occa- 
sions were  verv  rare. 


368 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"  But  all  who  knew  the  curly-headed  little  rascal,  admitted 
that  he  possessed  two  excellent  qualities;  he  was  as  brave  as 
a  lion  and  kind-hearted  to  a  fault.  He  was  prepared  to  fight 
'  at  the  drop  of  the  hat, ' 
and  no  boy  ever  heard 
him  cry  quits.  He  was 
as  ready  to  split  a  cord 
of  wood  fora  poor  wid- 
ow, as  he  was  to  tie  a  tin 
can  to  her  house-dog's 
tail,  and  that's  saying-  a 
great  deal,  I  assure  you. 


'JIM    HAD    ALWAYS    BEEN    A    WILD    LAD." 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  369 

"As  James  grew  toward  manhood,  he  fell  in  with  evil 
associates,  and  as  is  always  the  case  with  boys  of  his  peculiar 
disposition,  he  became  thoroughly  demoralized.  Cards, 
whisky,  horses  and  women  —  these  were  the  unsubstantial 
foundation  upon  which  rested  the  new  world  that  his  vicious 
companions  opened  up  to  him. 

"While  living-  at  the  old  home  in  Kentucky,  I  had  always 
had  a  great  controlling-  influence  over  'little  Jim,"  as  we  used 
to  affectionately  call  him,  and  even  after  I  left  home  for  col- 
lege, I  maintained  a  certain  degree  of  influence  over  him. 
Gradually  however,  our  correspondence  became  infrequent, 
until  we  heard  from  each  other  only  at  very  long-  intervals. 

"Knowing-  how  much  I  thoug-ht  of  the  lad,  my  parents 
never  alluded  to  Jim's  discrepancies  in  their  letters  to  me.  I 
have  sometimes  thought  that  possibly  they  were  actuated  to 
a  certain  extent  by  a  feeling-  of  false  pride;  they  did  not  care 
to  expose  the  failings  of  their  idol  to  his  natural  rival  in  their 
affections — his  brother. 

"Whatever  the  explanation  of  the  reticence  of  my  parents 
may  have  been,  the  fact  remains  that  I  had  no  intimation  of 
the  true  state  of  affairs  until  after  the  poor  boy  had  fled  from 
home,  never  to  return. 

"  It  was  the  old  story:  A  woman,  a  rival,  a  quarrel — pur- 
porting to  be  the  outcome  of  a  game  of  cards— the  lie,  a  shot, 
and  my  young  brother  a  fugitive!  What  a  monotonous  same- 
ness there  is  in  all  such  stories,  to  be  sure!  No  one  has 
invented  a  single  new  character  or  a  single  new  situation  in 
the  play  of  passion,  through  all  the  ages.  What  new  phases 
have  the  romancists  of  the  world  added  to  human  hopes,  fears, 
sentiments,  passions  and  vices  in  all  the  centuries?  None! 
And  yet  the  world  demands  originality  of  its  authors!  Why, 
lad,  when  the  sensation-loving,  pruriency-pandering  element 
in  society  has  once  become  satiated,  the  novelist  and  dram- 
atist— Othello-like — will  find  their  occupations  g-one. 

"  You  may  readily  perceive  that  I  wras  between  two  fires, 
in  deciding-  on  my  course  after  graduation — a  sense  of  filial 
duty  to  my  sorrowing  and  lonely  parents,  and  a  new-born 
professional  ambition. 


370  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"As  is  usually  the  case,  ambition  conquered,  and  I 
decided  to  seek  my  fortune  in  new  fields,  far  away  from  the 
paternal  roof. 

"  I  confess  that  I  was  influenced  somewhat  in  my  decision 
by  an  instinctive  aversion  to  meeting-  my  old  friends  and 
neighbors — in  whose  minds  the  story  of  my  brother's  down- 
fall was  still  fresh.  I  also  had  the  feeling-  that  I  oug-ht  to 
manifest  my  independence  of  spirit  by  seeking  fame  and 
wealth  among-  strangers  in  a  far-away  land,  from  which  I 
might  return  at  no  distant  day,  to  pour  my  well-earned 
riches  and  honors  into  the  laps  of  my  beloved  parents.  Alas! 
with  the  exuberance  of  youth,  I  forgot  how  great  are  the 
ravages  of  time  and  disease  among  the  old.  The  probability 
of  my  parents  dying  before  my  plans  should  culminate,  never 
entered  my  mind.  Like  most  young  doctors,  I  was  more 
scientific  than  common-sensible  or  philosophical. 

"  California  was,  at  that  time,  by  no  means  a  new  sensa- 
tion, but  the  novelty  of  the  gold  craze  had  not  yet  worn  off. 
I  had  no  particular  ambition  to  seek  my  fortune  in  foreign 
lands,  and  as  the  Pacific  coast  was  to  ambitious  Americans, 
still  the  El  Dorado  of  all  youthful  dreams,  I  very  naturally 
turned  my  thoughts  in  that  direction.  I  was  not  long  in 
deciding  the  matter,  and  after  an  interchange  of  letters 
with  my  parents,  made  my  arrangements  to  depart  for  San 
Francisco. 

"As  my  means  were  quite  limited,  I  felt  that  I  could  ill 
afford  to  gratify  the  inclination  to  visit  my  home  before  leav- 
ing for  the  west,  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  was  a  little  afraid 
.that  my  parents' oral  powers  of  persuasion  might  prove  more 
powerful  than  their  written  entreaties,  and  induce  me  to  alter 
my  plans.  I  have  always  regretted  that  I  did  not  follow  the 
impulses  of  my  heart,  rather  than  my  ambition,  and  return 
home  for  a  farewell  visit — my  parents  died  within  three 
months  after  my  departure  for  California.  Ah!  what  sadder 
trick  of  unkind  memory,  than  vain  regret? 

"The  choice  of  routes  to  California,  was  a  very  easy 
matter,  for  one  \vho  was  within  easy  access  of  the  Atlantic 
seaboard.  There  was  no  railroad  communication  with  the 
Pacific  coast,  hence  I  was  compelled  to  select  from  the  sev- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  371 

eral  ocean  routes,  that  which  promised  to  consume  the  least 
time.  With  this  idea  in  mind  I  embarked  at  New  York  City, 
on  a  steamer  of  the  Panama  line. 

"  Looking-  back  at  my  early  voyage  to  California,  I  often 
wonder  why  the  ocean  route  is  not  more  popular  with  tour- 
ists, even  in  these  days  of  rapid  transit.  The  trip  from  New 
York  to  San  Francisco  via  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  is  really 
one  of  the  most  enjoyable  and  healthful  experiences  imagin- 
able. I  believe  that  certain  classes  of  invalids  would  find  the 
trip  as  beneficial  as  it  is  delightful. 

"  My  voyage  was  of  course  a  novelty  to  me,  and  attended 
with  many  features  of  interest  to  one,  who,  like  myself,  had 
never  been  on  the  salt  water  before,  but  my  observations  en 
route  have  no  bearing  upon  my  story,  hence  I  will  not  under- 
take their  recital.  One  sad  incident  that  occurred,  however, 
impressed  me  very  vividly: 

"Among  my  fellow  passengers,  was  a  poor  fellow  hailing 
from  some  little  Connecticut  town,  who  had  started  for  the 
gold  fields  to  seek  his  fortune,  as  had  many  other  modern 
Jasons,  in  pursuit  of  the  Golden  Fleece.  Shortly  after  his 
arrival  in  New  York,  he  was  taken  with  typhoid  fever  and 
became  so  ill  that  his  life  was  despaired  of.  He  finally,  how- 
ever, became  apparently  convalescent,  and,  weak  as  he  was, 
insisted  on  starting  for  San  Francisco  at  once.  His  little 
savings  were  almost  exhausted,  and  the  poor  boy  felt  that  he 
must  continue  his  journey  while  he  still  had  means. 

"The  physician  in  charge  of  the  young  man,  at  first 
advised  against  his  departure,  but  finally  yielded  his  point, 
in  the  vague  hope  that  the  voyage  itself  might  prove  bene- 
ficial and  hasten  his  patient's  recovery.  It  is  hardly  necessary 
to  say  that  that  physician  had  probably  never  taken  a  trip  in 
the  steerage  of  an  ocean  steamer.  Such  a  voyage  is  rather 
trying  to  the  nerves  of  a  healthy  man,  and  to  a  supposed  con- 
valescent from  typhoid  fever,  it  is  certainly  not  to  be  recom- 
mended— the  advantages  of  the  ocean  breezes  are  decidedly 
off-set  by  the  inconveniences,  privations  and  bad  air  of  the 
steerage. 

"  It  seemed  that  the  young  man's  convalescence  was  only 
apparent,  for  he  had  a  relapse  within  three  days  after  leaving 


372  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

port,  and  again  became  very  ill.    It  was  soon  evident  that  the 
poor  fellow  was  in  very  bad  straits. 

"The  ship's  surgeon,  Doctor  Maxon,  was  a  young  man 
whose  inexperience  was  only  equalled  by  his  kindness  of 
heart.  He  was  working  his  own  passage  it  seems,  and  so  far 
as  the  particular  sick  passenger  under  consideration  was 
concerned,  the  doctor  did  the  best  he  could  to  earn  his  salary. 

"  Learning  that  I  was  a  physician — and  like  most  newly 
fledged  doctors,  I  was  not  slow  in  apprising  my  fellow 
passengers  of  the  fact  that  I  was  the  proud  possessor  of  a 
medical  degree — my  young  confrere  was  glad  to  share  the 
responsibility  of  the  sick  man's  case  with  me. 

"As  both  Doctor  Maxon  and  myself  were  young  in  the 
profession,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  our  patient  did 
not  suffer  from  a  lack  of  enthusiasm  on  the  part  of  his 
medical  attendants.  We  worked  over  him  early  and  late,  and 
it  really  seemed  at  one  time  that  we  were  going  to  pull  our 
patient  through.  But  the  ways  of  intestinal  ulceration  in 
typhoid  fever  are  past  all  understanding,  and  much  to  our 
sorrow,  perforation  occurred  and  our  patient  died  in  collapse 
within  six  hours  thereafter. 

"  I  believe  that  young  doctors  are  proverbially  emotional 
over  their  first  few  fatal  cases.  We  were  no  exception  to  the 
rule,  and  Hook  back  with  an  increased  self-respect,  and  a  high 
regard  for  Doctor  Maxon,  as  I  recall  the  fact  that  we  both 
cried  over  our  first  dying  patient. 

"Poor  boy!  he  needed  somebody's  tears,  and  ours  were 
all  he  got.  Perhaps  he  was  more  fortunate  than  most  dying 
men,  after  all,  for  our  tears  were  at  least  genuine — we  were 
keenly  and  truly  sorrowful  to  see  him  go.  How  fortunate  it 
is  that  we  doctors  do  not  go  on  expending  our  nervous  force 
in  sorrowing  emotion  over  our  dying  patients.  What  an 
ocean  of  tears  some  fellows  would — but  I  am  digressing. 

"The  dead  man  was  friendless  and  penniless;  his  sur- 
roundings were  necessarily  selfish,  and  we  had  no  facilities 
for  embalming— even  had  any  inducement  in  that  direction 
been  offered.  Burial  at  sea  was  therefore  the  only  practic- 
able method  of  disposal  of  the  body.— 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


373 


"A  funeral  at  sea,  is  one  of  the  most  impressive  cere- 
monies I  have  ever  witnessed.  The  vast  solitude,  the  ab- 
sence of  all  incidents  and  interests  that  might  divert  the 


"THE  BODY  FELL  FOR- 
WARD UPON  ITS  FACE." 


mind  from  the  affair  in  hand,  the  feeling-  of  loneliness  which 
comes  over  one  at  the  thought  of  the  dead  body  settling  down 
to  the  bottom  of  the  mighty  ocean,  there  to  remain  forever, 


374  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

far  removed  from  human  knowledge  or  sympathy — if  per- 
chance it  be  not  torn  en  route  by  voracious  sharks,  those 
wolves  of  the  sea — are  impressions  that  a  sensitive  mind  is 
not  likely  to  forget.  Like  most  young-  men  of  studious  lives 
I  was  quite  sensitive  and  emotional,  and  such  exceptional 
scenes  as  a  burial  at  sea  are  not  likely  to  be  easily  effaced  by 
subsequent  experiences  of  whatever  kind.  This  is  an  un- 
fortunate attribute  of  the  mind,  for  not  all  of  our  early  ex- 
periences are  of  an  agreeable  nature. 

"I  recall,even  now,  the  solemnity  of  that  interesting  and 
memorable  event.  There  being  no  clergyman  aboard,  a 
young  gentleman  passenger  volunteered  to  read  the  burial 
service.  He  was  a  magnificent  orator,  and,  doubtless  im- 
pressed with  the  novelty  and  solemnity  of  the  occasion,  did 
full  justice  to  his  subject.  Never  have  I  heard  anything  so 
beautiful  as  the  service  over  my  first  deceased  patient. 

"As  the  young  man  finished  reading,  the  clear  tones  of 
the  ship's  bell  rang  out — it  seemed  to  me  with  a  deeper  and 
more  solemn  sound  than  was  its  wont,  as  though  in  sympathy 
with  its  new  and  sacred  duty— as  it  tolled  the  signal  to  the 
strong-armed  waiting  sailors,  who,  with  bare  and  bowed 
heads,  stood  supporting  upon  the  stern  rail  of  the  ship,  the 
plank  upon  which  lay  the  hammock-shrouded  corpse. 

"As  the  last  sad  note  of  the  bell  pealed  out  over  the 
water,  the  sailors  lifted  the  plank  over  the  rail,  elevated  it, 
and  allowed  the  body  to  slide  into  the  sea. 

"Whoever  had  been  entrusted  with  shotting  the  shroud 
at  the  feet  of  the  corpse,  was  evidently  inexperienced  and  had 
put  in  too  little  weight;  as  a  consequence,  when  the  sailors 
tipped  the  plank  over  the  rail,  the  body  fell  forward  upon  its 
face,  with  a  resounding,  ghastly  splash  that  threw  the  salt 
spray  over  those  nearest  the  rail,  and  sank  quite  slowly, 
vibrating  to  and  fro  in  plain  sight  as  it  gradually  settled  into 
the  clear,  blue  water,  that  was  as  pellucid  as  a  dead  calm  and 
a  fair,  cloudless  sky  could  make  it. 

"  My  boy,  there's  no  form  of  burial  that  is  much  more 
sensible  than  that  at  sea,  but  I  cannot  help  thinking  of  that 
poor  lad,  whose  drifting,  sodden  bones  lie  at  the  bottom  of  the 
blue  Mexican  gulf,  as  the  ideal  of  loneliness  and  friendless- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  375 

ness.  But  such  burials  are,  after  all,  quite  utilitarian.  Do 
you  remember  what  Shakespeare  says  in  his  beautiful  Tem- 
pest? Ariel,  I  believe,  is  made  to  sing- — 

'  Full  fathom  five  thy  father  lies, 
Of  his  bones  are  coral  made; 
Those  are  pearls  that  were  his  eyes. 
Nothing-  of  him  that  doth  fade 
But  doth  suffer  a  sea  chang-e, 
Into  something'  rich  and  strang-e. ' 

"  With  favoring-  winds  and  the  fairest  weather,  that  por- 
tion of  my  journey  which  lay  beyond  the  Isthmus  of  Panama, 
was  traversed  in  what  our  captain  pronounced  phenomenal 
time.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he  must  be  rig-h}:,  for  the  days 
did  not  drag1,  I  assure  you.  There  are  times  when  one  won- 
ders why  the  Pacific  Ocean  ever  received  so  fair  and  gentle  a 
name,  but  during-  that  part  of  my  trip  which  lay  over  its 
beautiful  waters,  I  certainly  had  no  reason  to  quarrel  with 
geographical  nomenclature,  for  balmier  skies,  better  weather 
and  smoother  seas  could  not  be  wished  for. 

"  Despite  the  pleasure  of  the  trip,  however,  it  was  with  a 
thrill  of  eag-er  expectancy,and  that  ill-defined  hope  which  ever 
bubbles  forth  from  the  well-spring  of  youthful  ambition,  that 
I  heard  the  cheery  call  of  'Land  ho!'  as  the  outposts  of  the 
land-locked  harbor  of  San  Francisco  came  in  sig-ht." 

"It  is  doubtful  whether  nature  ever  desig-ned  a  more 
secure  or  beautiful  harbor  than  the  bay  of  San  Francisco. 
Was  it  not  because  of  its  beauty  that  its  entrance  was  called 
'  The  Golden  Gate?'  It  was  certainly  so  named  by  the  early 
adventurers,  long-  before  the  discovery  of  that  mineral  wealth 
which  made  the  entrance  to  the  principal  port  of  the  land 
wherein  lay  the  Golden  Fleece,  a  'g-olden  gate  '  in  fact,  as  it 
was  in  name.  Was  the  author  of  the  name  inspired?  Per- 
haps— who  can  say? 

"Standing-  at  the  entrance  of  the  bay,  like  two  trusty 
sentinels,  are  the  points  of  land  between  which  storm-tossed 
vessels  must  pass,  to  reach  the  secure  haven  within.  The 
northern  one  is  Point  Bontta — the  beautiful — readilv  dis- 


376  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

tinguishable  by  the  narrow  strip  of  land  running-  toward  the 
bar  which  crosses  the  gateway  and  is,  or  was,  sometimes 
dangerous  for  vessels  of  heavy  draught  passing-  in  or  out  at 
low  tide,  when  the  wind  blew  strongly  from  the  west,  '  nor- 
west '  or  '  sou-east.' 

"Standing on  Point  Bonita,  like  a  faithful  guardian  of  the 
sailor's  safety,  stood  a  light-house,  that  had  but  one  rival,  a 
structure  of  similar  character  and  purpose  on  one  of  the 
Farralone  Islands,  which,  on  a  clear  day,  was  sometimes 
visible  to  the  approaching  voyager,  long  before  the  inner  one 
at  Point  Bonita  came  into  view. 

"  On  the  southern  point,  Point  Lobos — '  Wolves'  Point  '- 
stood  the  telegraph  station  from  which  messages  were  sent 
to  the  city,  announcing  the  arrival  of  vessels. 

"From  Points  Bonita  and  Lobos,  which  are  separated  by 
a  distance  of  perhaps  three  miles,  the  shores  of  the  inlet  of 
the  harbor  gradually  converge,  until  at  the  narrowest  part  of 
the  channel — the  Golden  Gate  proper — the  distance  between 
the  farthest  jutting  points  is  less  than  two  thousand  yards. 

"One  must  see  the  bay  of  San  Francisco  to  realize  its 
beauties — and  to  see  it  at  its  best,  he  must  sail  through  the 
Golden  Gate.  If  he  has  not  this  opportunity,  let  him  stand 
upon  the  shore  at  the  entrance,  and  watch  the  stately  ships, 
as  they  pass  to  and  fro  in  their  out-going  or  home-coming. 
One  of  the  most  beautiful  sights  I  have  ever  witnessed  was  a 
majestic  outward-bound  East  Indian  clipper  ship  crossing 
the  bar  by  moonlight,  on  her  way  to  the  far-away  land  of  tea 
and  spice. 

"  The  harbor  of  San  Francisco  as  I  first  saw  it  in  the 
early  summer  of  1860, was  a  strange  sight.  It  is  probable 
that  nowhere  else  in  the  world  could  so  many  varieties  of 
shipping  be  seen.  The  flags  and  bunting  of  all  nations  were 
constantly  displayed,  and  all  sorts  of  craft,  from  the  queer 
oriental  junk  to  the  palatial  steamship  of  the  Pacific  mail  or 
the  royal  merchantman  of  the  Indies,  could  be  found  going  or 
coming,  or  lying  at  anchor,  at  all  times. 

"And  the  additions  that  each  incoming  vessel  made  to 
the  population  of  the  city,  were  as  varied  as  were  the  craft  in 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  377 

which   they  came.     The  population   of  San   Francisco  was 
probably  at  that  time  unequalled  for  cosmopolitanism. 

"It  seemed  to  me  as  I 
landed  at  the  wharf  and 
looked  about  me,  that  I  was 
in  a  new  world,  a  veritable 
wonderland — and  I  was  not 
far  from  right. 


THE    MAJESTIC    INDIAMAN. 


"  Doctor  Maxon  and   my- 
self  were  actuated  by  a  similar 
impulse  when  we  landed,  which 
was  to  find  quarters  to  fit  our 
slender    purses,    where    we 
might  remain  for  a  few  days 
while    looking-    over   our   new 
field  of  operations  and  decid- 
ing- as  to  our  future  course.     Hotels  were  beyond  our  reach, 
and  I  do  not  know  where  we  would  have  landed  eventually, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  kindness  of  some  of  Doctor  Maxon'? 


378  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

sailor  friends  on  board  the  good  ship  that  had  brought  us 
to  the  land  of  promise. 

"Through  the  friendly  offices  of  those  rough  sailor  boys, 
we  finally  found  a  half-way  decent  sailor's  boarding  house, 
where  we  succeeded  in  securing  accommodations  for  which 
we  felt  able  to  pay — for  a  short  time  at  least. 

"Doctor  Maxon  soon  met  friends,  and  through  their  influ- 
ence, he  decided  to  give  up  all  notions  of  pursuing  his  pro- 
fessional vocation — he  preferred  the  enticing  prospect  of 
digging  gold  to  the  slower  process  of  accumulation  by  hard- 
earned  fees. 

"  I  never  met  the  doctor  again,  and  much  to  my  regret,  I 
learned  of  his  death  some  time  after.  He  was,  unfortunately, 
drowned  in  the  Sacramento  river  during  that  general  inunda- 
tion of  the  valley  which  forms  so  important  a  feature  of  my 
story.  Poor  Maxon!  He  was  a  good  fellow  and  deserved 
better  luck.— 

"After  my  friend's  departure,  I  was  left  to  solace  my 
loneliness  as  best  I  might,  and  like  all  young  men  in  similar 
situations,  I  put  in  my  time  seeing  the  sights.  My  student 
days  had  been  too  busy  for  indulgences  of  that  kind,  and  as  I 
had  determined  to  strike  out  for  the  mines,  to  practice  or  not, 
as  I  should  afterward  see  fit,  I  determined  to  make  the  most 
of  my  opportunity. 

"If  there  was  anything  in  San  Francisco  that  I  did  not 
see,  I  cannot  imagine  what  it  might  have  been.  Indeed,  every- 
thing was  run  with  such  wide-openness  that  none  but  a  blind 
man  could  have  failed  to  find  entertainment. 

"The  special  attraction  in  the  way  of  diversion  afforded 
by  San  Francisco  in  those  days,  was  gambling  in  its  various 
forms.  I  was  not  likely  to  be  tempted  to  gamble,  and  had 
little  but  self-respect  to  lose,  even  if  I  should  happen  to  for- 
get my  anti-gambling  principles,  hence  I  gratified  my  curi- 
osity to  the  point  of  satiation. 

"The  San  Francisco  gambling-house  was  the  common 
ground  upon  which  the  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  the  early  cosmo- 
politan population  of  the  city  met.  The  proprietors  of  the 
gambling  hells  certainly  knew  human  nature  thoroughly, 
judging  by  the  variety  of  excitement  that  they  provided. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  379 

Every  known  game,  and  every  variety  of  liquor  distinguished 
for  its  vital-reaching  propensities,  was  at  the  disposal  of 
their  patrons,  day  and  night.  The  boast  of  the  gambling- 
house  keeper  was,  that  he  had  thrown  his  front  door  key 
away  the  first  day  his  house  was  opened. 

"  When  the  fever  of  gambling  struck  the  good  citizen  or 
the  unwary  visitor  from  the  mines,  he  could  have  his  choice 
of  a  variety  of  remedies,  monte,  faro,  roulette,  poker — any- 
thing he  pleased,  if  he  had  his  '  dust '  with  him. 

"And  do  not  imagine  that  the  dispensers  of  the  cooling 
games  were  low-browed,  ugly  ruffians.  Smooth,  sleek  and 
handsome,  were  the  nimble-fingered  gentry  who  attended  to 
the  wants  of  the  fever-stricken  fools  who  had  more  ounces  in 
their  pockets  than  in  their  brain-pans — until  the  fever  was 
cured,  when  the  loss  of  balance  was  in  the  other  direction. 
Many  a  college  education  was  wasted — or  utilized,  if  you 
please — on  the  dealer's  side  of  a  '  sweat-cloth '  in  some  of 
those  dens.  My  fine  gentleman  would  not  swing  a  pick — 
unless  it  were  an  ivory  one  with  which  he  could  steal  away  a 
sturdy  miner's  golden  ounces,  much  more  quickly  than  the 
hapless  fool  could  dig  them  \vith  the  implements  of  honest 
toil. 

"But  the  scene  was  an  alluring  one, nevertheless.  The 
rattle  of  chips  and  dice;  the  ringing  of  silver  and  the  clink  of 
gold;  the  thud  of  the  buckskin  bags  of  golden  dust  as  they 
were  recklessly  thrown  upon  the  table;  the  duller,  yet  more 
portentious,  shuffling  of  the  cards;  the  whir  of  the  wheel; 
the  call  of  the  polished  gentlemen  who  presided  at  the  tables 
where  rouge  et  noir  was  being  played,  were  entertaining  to 
my  ear,  untrained  as  it  was  to  such  sounds. 

"  'Step  up  and  make  your  bets,  gentlemen! — The  game 
is  made!  Five  — eleven — eighteen — twenty — twenty-two — 
twenty-four — twenty-eight — thirty-one. — Red  wins,  gentle- 
men ! ' — and  the  never-ending  procession  of  excited  fools  steps 
up  to  diversion  and  disaster. 

"  There  was  one  thing  the  proprietors  of  those  gambling 
houses  forgot — they  should  have  had  a  suicide  room  and 
undertaking  department.  It  would  have  saved  the  city 
fathers  a  deal  of  trouble  in  the  disposal  of  the  large  crop 


380  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

of  unknown  remains  that  the  morning-  light  disclosed  in 
obscure  corners  of  the  city — poor  fugitives  from  self;  victims 
of  those  dens  wherein  Venus,  Momus,  Terpsichore  and  Bac- 
chus, grovelled  in  the  dirt  and  yet  held  undisputed  sway. 

"There  was  a  grim  irony,  and  yet  withal,  a  tinge  of 
comedy,  in  the  farewell  treat  of  fiery  liquor  with  which  the 
management  bowed  out  its  ruined  guests  —  bowed  them  out 
of  the  den  of  iniquity  and  into  a  slough  of  despond  from 
which  they  often-times  never  emerged — on  this  side  of 
eternity. 

"  I  was  standing  one  evening  in  '  The  Palace ' — a  gambling 
den  with  the  usual  appurtenances  of  tributary  and  dependent 
vice — curiously  watching  the  movements  of  the  dealer  at  one 
of  the  numerous  faro  games.  Every  table  was  crowded  with 
players  and  surrounded  by  spectators,  some  of  whom,  like 
myself,  were  mere  curiosity  seekers,  but  most  of  them  being 
devotees  of  the  shrine,  who  were  impatiently  awaiting  the 
occurrence  of  a  vacancy  at  the  table — when  a  bankrupt  player 
should  make  way  for  fatter  victims. 

"Sitting  just  opposite  the  dealer,  was  a  young  lad,  who 
could  not  have  been  more  than  seventeen  years  of  age,  betting 
away  with  a  recklessness  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a 
millionaire.  The  youngster  was  evidently  flushed  with  liquor, 
and  laboring  under  the  highest  degree  of  excitement. 

"Standing-  just  behind  the  boy,  was  a  woman — evidently 
one  of  the  demimonde,  who,  it  was  plain  to  be  seen,  was  influ- 
encing1 his  betting-.  Whether  the  creature  was  giving  direct 
advice  and  encouragement  or  not,  I  cannot  say,  but  the  lad 
was  certainly  trying-  to  appear  as  brave  and  recklessly  extrav- 
agant as  possible,  for  the  apparent  purpose  of  impressing  the 
woman.  A  furtive  glance  which  the  dealer  exchanged  with 
his  charming  'capper'  now  and  then,  was  sufficient  to  enable 
even  one  of  my  limited  experience,  to  form  a  correct  con- 
clusion as  to  the  status  of  affairs. 

"Just  opposite  me  and  almost  directly  behind  the  dealer, 
stood  a  man,  who,  I  was  certain,  had  been  studying  my  face 
from  time  to  time  ever  since  I  had  taken  my  place  among  the 
spectators  of  the  game.  A  stealthy  glance  at  my  vis  a  vis 
when  he  happened  to  be  watching  the  boy's  playing — which 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  381 

seemed  to  be  dividing-  his  attention  with  me — revealed  a 
person  of  most  striking-  appearance  and  unique  individuality. 

"Apparently  about  twenty-five  years  of  ag-e,  judging-  by 
his  heavy  black  moustache  and  mature  development;  a  tall 
athletic  fig-ure;  long-  curling-  locks  of  jet  black  hair  hanging 
loosely  down  over  his  shoulders;  eyes  as  black  as  sloes  and 
as  piercing-  as  those  of  a  hawk — the  strang-er  was  indeed  a 
handsome  and  most  picturesque  character.  Nor  were  his 
natural  attractions  lessened  by  his  attire.  His  closely  but- 
toned coat  of  fashionable  cut,  small,  neat  boots,  and  sur- 
mounting- all,  his  broad-brimmed  hat,  made  him  even  more 
striking-,  if  possible.  I  glanced  at  his  hands  and  noted  that 
they  were  small,  and  of  a  color  that  indicated  both  g-entility 
and  a  life  in  which  manual  labor  bore  no  part. 

"As  I  stole  a  second  g-lance  at  the  handsome  strang-er, 
our  eyes  met,  and  I  fancied  that  he  started  somewhat  sud- 
denly. He  glanced  away  quickly,  but  as  the  boy  in  whom  he 
appeared  to  take  such  an  interest  was  apparently  getting 
pretty  near  the  end  of  his  funds,  I  concluded  that  the  un- 
known's emotion — if  indeed  he  had  really  displayed  any — 
was  due  to  the  evident  bad  luck  of  his  unconscious  protege. 
It  was  plain  to  me  that  he  was  interested  in  the  boy,  for 
there  was  an  expression  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  and 
and  an  almost  tender  gleam  in  his  eyes,  that  could  not  be 
mistaken  by  anyone  who  possessed  even  a  fair  ability  in 
character  reading". 

"I  knew  not  why  the  picturesque  strang-er  interested 
me,  but  there  seemed  to  be  some  indefinable  attraction  about 
him,  that  caused  me  to  forg-et  the  g-ame  and  watch  him 
as  closely  as  I  could  without  risk  of  g-iving-  offense.  As  our 
eyes  met,  I  experienced  a  peculiar  sense  of  mutual  recogni- 
tion, and  yet  it  was  seemingly  impossible,  or  at  least,  highly 
improbable,  that  we  had  ever  met  before. 

"But  the  occurrences  of  the  next  few  moments  entirely 
diverted  my  mind  for  the  time  being-,  from  the  question  of 
recognition. 

"The  poor,  foolish  boy  soon  exhausted  his  money,  and 
vacated  his  place  at  the  unholy  altar.  I  saw  him  whisper  to 
the  female,  in  whose  company  he  evidently  was,  and  appar- 


382  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

ently  request  her  to  step  aside  with  him.  She  did  so,  and 
they  stood  for  some  time  in  earnest,  confidential  discussion 
of  a  subject  which  their  gestures  made  all  too  apparent.  The 
bird  was  plucked,  his  charms  were  gone,  and  he  was  not 
only  refused  a  'stake'  wherewith  to  possibly  retrieve  his 
losses,  but  the  light  of  his  first  romance  was  extinguished 
forever — or  until  he  had  procured  more  money,  which,  to  the 
woman's  mind,  amounted  to  the  same  thing. 

"  The  expression  on  that  poor  boy's  face  was  a  horror  and 
a  sermon  both  in  one.  As  the  woman  coldly  and  haughtily 
swept  away  from  him,  her  tainted  skirts  swishing  suggest- 
ively and  ominously  over  the  floor,  gathering  up  tobacco  and 
other  filth  which  was  purity  itself  beside  her  harpy-like  soul, 
the  lad  stood  gazing  after  her  as  if  in  a  dream.  He  was 
stunned  into  obliviousness  to  everything  but  the  realization 
of  his  disaster. 

"  He  stood  for  a  moment  as  though  incapable  of  motion, 
then,  with  an  expression  of  desperation  in  his  eyes,  and  a 
countenance  that  was  the  typification  of  utterly  hopeless 
despair,  he  passed  through  the  green  baize  doors  out  into  the 
night — his  first  black  night  of  fathomless  woe  and  absolute 
demoralization. 

"I  had  watched  the  boy  from  the  time  he  left  the  table, 
and  his  expression,  as  the  hawk  that  had  plucked  away  his 
youthful  plumage  flew  away  from  her  victim,  at  once  appealed 
to  my  young  professional  eye.  I  made  my  diagnosis  almost 
intuitively,  and  instinctively  started  to  follow  the  lad,  as 
quickly  as  I  could  without  attracting  attention.  As  I  turned 
toward  the  exit,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  some  one  just  passing 
out.  As  the  doors  swung  back  before  him,  I  recognized  the 
stalwart  form  of  the  picturesque  unknown. 

"I  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief,  and  strolled  leisurely  along 
after  the  stranger.  I  do  not  know  why,  but  I  felt  that  the 
boy  was  safe.  I  was  sure  I  could  not  be  mistaken  in  my 
interpretation  of  the  play  of  emotions  that  had  animated  the 
stranger's  face,  as  he  watched  the  game  which  had  ruined 
the  poor  lad  whom  he  was  evidently  following. 

"I  soon  saw  that  I  was  right.  The  stranger  caught  up 
with  the  boy,  just  as  he  stepped  into  the  brilliant  glare  of 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


383 


light  that  illuminated  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  the  gambling- 
den.  Placing- one  hand  upon  the  boy's  shoulder,  he  gently  but 
firmly  halted  him,  I,  meanwhile,  drawing  back  in  the  shadow 


*        S-» 


"DON'T  BE  FRIGHTENED,  MY  LAD. 


384  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

of  the  outer  door  of  the  Palace,  determined,  with  the  best  of 
motives,  to  see  the  thing-  through. 

'"Don't  befrightened,mylad,'  said  the  man,  'I  just  want 
to  speak  to  you  a  moment,  that's  all.' 

"The  boy  looked  at  him  as  though  dazed  for  a  moment, 
and  then  replied  slowly— 

"'I'm  not  frightened, sir,  you're  not  apt  to  do  anything 
worse  to  me  than  I've  already  done  to  myself ;  my  money  is 
all  gone,  and  you  can't  do  any  more  than  kill  me,  if  you  don't 
want  money.  As  for  killing  me — well,  I  have  more  lead  than 
gold  left,  and  I've  not  forgotten  how  my  father  taught  me  to 
die — like  a  gentleman.' 

"I  fancied  the  boy  looked  quite  the  hero,  as  he  spoke — 
there  was  a  little  touch  of  the  southern  born,  about  him  that 
brought  my  home  in  Kentucky  back  to  me.  I  had  seen  such 
boys  there,  and  I  knew — well,  there  was  one  who  was  some- 
thing like  that,  whom  I  would  have  given  the  world  to  see,  and 
my  heart  went  out  to  that  poor  unfortunate  lad.  And  yet,  for 
some  reason,  I  had  an  even  kinder  feeling  for  the  man  who 
was  evidently  going  to  act  the  friend  and  adviser  of  our 
mutual  protege". 

" '  Pardon  me,  my  boy,  for  even  suggesting  that  you 
might  be  frightened,'  said  the  unknown,  '  but  you  are  young; 
San  Francisco  has  some  queer  ways  and  still  queerer  people, 
and  it's  not  every  man  who  gets  the  drop  on  you  who  means 
well.  I  am  free  to  say  that  I  should  be  uneasy  myself,  were  I 
to  be  similarly  accosted,  and  they  say  that  I  am — well,  that 
I'm  "no  chicken,"  you  know.  Where  are  you  from,  my  boy  ?' 

"  'I'm  from  Virginia,  sir,'  replied  the  lad,  straightening 
up — with  a  little  of  the  Old  Dominion  pride,  I  thought. 

"'Ah!'  exclaimed  his  new-found  friend,  'I  was  sure  I 
detected  a  little  of  the  old  cavalier  strain  in  your  face.  What 
is  your  name,  may  I  ask?' 

'"  Gordon  Cab  ell,  sir.' 

"'Well,  Master  Cabell,  I  know  your  breed  pretty  well; 
I'm  from — well,  I  have  met  southern  boys  before.  No\v,I'm 
going  to  talk  plainly  to  you,and  you  mustn't  be  offended.  I'm 
going  to  be  your  friend,  if  you  will  let  me — your  friend  for 
to-night,  at  least,  and  you  must  listen  to  me. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  385 

"  '  I'm  not  going-  to  give  you  a  moral  lecture  on  gambling 
or  liquor  drinking— I  presume  that  the  Gordons,  Cabells,  and 
many  more  of  your  ancestors,  have  played  cards,  drunk 
whisky,  raced  horses,  attended  cock  fights,  and  fought  duels, 
and  have  done  many  other  things  that  some  people  with  colder 
blood  object  to,  but  they  did  all  those  things  like  gentlemen, 
I'll  warrant  you.  Now  tell  me,  young  fellow,  did  you  ever 
know  of  a  Cabell  doing  what  you  have  done,  and  still  worse, 
what  you  were  going  to  do  to-night?' 

"'Sir!'  said  the  boy,  indignantly,  reaching  toward  his 
pistol,  '  I  will—' 

"  '  Oh,  no  you  won't,  Master  Cabell ;  look  me  in  the  eye, 
please ! '  and  the  boy  gazed  at  the  stranger  wonderingly,  as  he 
drew  his  tall  form  up  to  its  full  height,  calmly  folded  his  arms 
and  looked  down  upon  him. 

"  '  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  am  your  friend,  Gordon, 
and  the  Cabells  do  not  make  targets  of  their  friends.  Give 
me  your  pistol,  sir!' 

"  The  boy  almost  mechanically  drew  his  pistol  from  the 
holster  beneath  his  loose-fitting  coat,  and  obeying  the  man- 
date of  a  will  more  powerful  than  his  own,  handed  it  to  his 
companion. 

"  'Thank  you,  Gordon,'  said  the  stranger,  'I'll  return  it 
to  you  presently.' 

"  '  Now, my  boy,  let  us  get  to  business.  You  have  fallen 
among  thieves,  and  have  been  plucked,  like  the  unsuspecting, 
foolish  pigeon  that  you  are.  I  don't  want  to  know  your  past 
history;  life  is  too  short,  but  I  do  want  to  have  a  hand  in  your 
future. 

"  '  You  are  the  scion  of  aristocratic  stock — your  ancest- 
ors before  you,  were  worshippers  at  the  shrine  of  beauty,  but 
it  was  the  beauty  of  purity  and  virtue.  You  have  been  drag- 
ging your  family  pride  down  into  the  dirt,  and  offering  up 
your  young  soul  upon  an  altar  which  a  true  son  of  the  Old 
Dominion  should  loathe.  You  have  squandered  your  money, 
trying  to  beat  a  game  that's  a  '  dead-open-and-shut '  against 
you. — You  are  listening  to  one  who  knows  whereof  he  speaks, 
I  assure  you,  my  boy. 


386  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  Not  satisfied  with  what  you  had  already  done,  which, 
after  all,  is  easily  remedied,  you  were  about  to  stain  your 
family  name  and  record,  with  a  crime  that  nothing-  on  earth 
could  ever  wipe  out — you  were  about  to  kill — a  fool,  Gordon, 
who  may  yet  be  made  a  wise  man. 

"  '  I  once  knew  a  boy  who  played  the  fool  —  much  as  you 
have  done — and  who  is  still  expiating  his  folly.  He  might 
eventually  have  done  as  you  were  about  to  do,  only  he  hap- 
pened to  be  compelled  to — well,  he  didn't  shoot  himself,  that's 
one  thing-  to  his  credit,  although  his  family  and  not  himself 
was  perhaps  the  gainer  by  it — or  will  be  sometime,  if  the 
truth  is  ever  known.  He  couldn't  avoid  the  other — there  was 
nothing  about  that,  which  he  had  cause  to  be  ashamed  of, 
although  the  world,  that  knows  not  the  circumstances,  thinks 
differently. 

"  'Now,  Gordon,  I'm  going  to  stake  you.  Don't  say  no — 
it  is  a  loan  if  you  please,  or  anything  you  choose  to  call  it. 
Take  this  and  get  out  of  this  hell-hole  of  a  town  as  quick  as 
the  Lord  will  let  you ! ' 

''  The  boy  stood  for  a  moment,  with  the  tears  streaming 
down  his  cheeks,  and  then  hesitatingly  took  the  proffered 
bag  of  dust. 

"  'And  will  you  really  let  me  pay  it  back  to  you,  sir,  when 
I  am  able?' 

"'I  certainly  will,'  replied  the  generous  stranger.  'As 
I  have  already  told  you,  my  boy,  I  know  your  breed,  and  I 
don't  want  you  to  remain  under  obligations  to  one  who  is  an 
entire  stranger,  But,  after  all,  your  honorable  intention 
clears  the  obligation. 

"  'And,  Gordon,  here's  your  pistol.  I  think  you  under- 
stand its  use  a  little  better  than  you  did  a  short  time  ago. 
And  now  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  few  parting  words  of 
advice — 

"  'In  the  first  place,  young  fellow,  don't  gamble — if  your 
blood  is  too  thick  to  heed  this  admonition,  learn  to  play 
poker.  It's  a  scientific  game  and  a  square  one — sometimes— 
always  so  among  gentlemen.  Never  bet  against  another 
man's  game,  nor  play  against  a  percentage.  Gambling 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  387 

games  of  that  kind  are  like  the  play  of  life,  the  percentage  is 
in  favor  of  the  dealer,  and  fetches  you  sooner  or  later. 

"'In  the  second  place,  young-  man,  set  up  a  shrine  in 
your  heart,  and  worship  female  purity  and  virtue;  then  you 
are  safe.  If  you  have  a  mother  or  sisters,  don't  forget  that  a 
woman  who  is  not  fit  for  their  society  is  not  worthy  of  your 
young  affections. 

"  '  Youthful  affection,  my  boy,  is  not  inexhaustible — keep 
it  for  future  reference — and  worthy  objects.  You  may  yet 
live  to  wish  that  the  worldly  heart  of  to-morrow  were  the 
young  and  fresh  one  of  yesterday. 

"  'And  now,  I  must  leave  you.  Good  night,  my  boy,  and 
don't  forget  what  I  have  said  to  you.' 

"  '  But  sir,  your  name ! — who  shall  I — ? ' 

'  His  benefactor  had  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 

'The  boy  stood  for  some  time,  gazing  blankly  into  the 
night  in  the  direction  in  which  the  stranger  had  disappeared; 
then,  drawing  himself  up  proudly,  as  became  a  son  of  fair 
Virginia,  he  placed  the  bag  of  gold  in  his  pocket  and  his 
pistol  in  its  holster,  cast  a  scornful  glance  toward  the  windows 
of  the  Palace,  and  strode  resolutely  away. 

"  That  the  lad  profited  by  the  stranger's  advice  was 
evidenced  by  his  subsequent  career.  It  was  my  fortune  to 
hear  from  him,  many  years  after,  as  a  rising  young  lawyer  in 
New  York  City,  where  he  doubtless  is  to-day,  if  still  living. 
He  went  to  the  gold  fields  a  few  days  after  his  adventure  at 
the  gambling  hell,  and  within  a  few  years  was  lucky  enough 
to  amass  quite  a  little  fortune.  With  this  he  returned  home, 
and  finally  studied  law.  He  eventually  went  to  the  metropolis, 
as  offering  the  best  inducements  to  his  new-found  professional 
ambition.  He  never  again  saw  the  quondam  friend  who  suc- 
cored him  from  the  fate  of  a  suicide.  I  alone,  know  the 
subsequent  history  of  the  handsome  stranger.  And  I,  alas! 
never  felt  that  I  could — but  I  must  not  get  ahead  of  my  story: 

"A  few  days  after  the  events  which  I  have  related,  I 
chanced  to  meet  an  old-time  friend  of  my  father,  hailing  from 
Maine.  Mr.  Allen,  it  seemed,  had  '  struck  it  rich,'  and  was 
on  his  way  back  to  '  the  States.' 


388 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"From  this  gentleman,  I  received  a  glowing-  account  of 
the  wealth  of  the  placer  mining1  region  in  Tuolumne  county, 
which  at  once  determined  my  future  course.  When  Mr. 
Allen  informed  me  that  the  country  where  he  had  made  his 
'  pile,'  was  not  only  rich  in  gold,  but  badly  in  need  of  doctors, 
I  decided  that  Tuolumne  should  have  one  medical  celebrity 
at  least. 

"  '  Investing  some  of  my  greatly  diminished  capital  in  an 
outfit  which  I  thought  might  harmonize  to  a  certain  extent 
with  the  new  field  for  which  I  was  about  to  depart;  I  bade 
farewell  to  San  Francisco,  and  set  out  for  the  fame  and  pot 
of  gold  that  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  rainbow  of  my  dreams." 


"And  now,my  boy,  it  is  high  time  you  and  I  were  giving 
a  practical  illustration  of  the  subject  of  dreams.  Having  left 
San  Francisco,  I  am  sure  to  be  perfectly  safe  until  we  meet 
again,  when  I  will  take  pleasure  in  continuing  our  story. 

"Good  night,Frank,  and  good  luck  to  you." 


POKER  JIM— GENTLEMAN, 


II. 


ELLO !  ole  hoss — ye  durned 
ole  cuss !   Whar  ye  bin  ? 
Frisco?     Wall,  how's  thet 

lively  town  ? 
Got  yer  pile,  eh?     I  jes'   thort   ye 

looked  like  sin ! 
Must   hev   done   ye   up    good    an 

brown ! 
Aint  ye  glad  ter  see  th'  ole  brown 

jug  an'  yer  cob  ? 

Wall,  I  sh'd  kinder  think  ye'd  be, 
S'pose  ye  smoked  havanners  whilst 

ye  played  ther  nob- 
But  'baccy 's  good  ernuff  fer  me," 


'POKER  JIM   WUZ  ER  GENTLEMAN." 


POKER  JIM— GENTLEMAN. 


II. 


FOUND  the  doctor  sitting  in  his  library 
arranging  some  notes  for  his  next 
morning's  lecture.  As  might  be  sup- 
posed, he  seemed  more  thoughtful 
than  jolly.  He  had  evidently  been 
wrestling-  with  a  pretty  tough  proposi- 
tion, for  his  hookah,  which  stood  beside 
him  with  its  long,  flexible  stem  care- 
lessly dropped  upon  the  floor,  had 
evidently  been  in  operation,  and  its  fire 
allowed  to  die  out  for  lack  of  attention 
upon  the  smoker's  end  of  the  appliance. 
The  doctor  looked  up,  however,  with  his 
accustomed  warm,  pleasant  smile  of  friendly 
greeting,  and  after  the  usual  informalities  of 
punch  and  cigars  had  been  concluded,  motioned  me  to  my  old 
easy  chair  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  table. 

Doctor  Weymouth's  experience  as  a  medical  teacher  had 
been  a  long  one,  and  I  had  often  wished  to  hear  him  discuss 
that  particular  phase  of  his  career.  Here  was  my  oppor- 
tunity, and  I  hastened  to  embrace  it. 


"Do  I  like  medical  teaching?  Well,  my  boy,  what  other 
incentive  could  there  possibly  be  for  me  to  gx>  before  my 
classes  several  times  weekly,  and  use  up  what  little  reserve 
nervous  energy  I  possess,  in  work  that  not  only  does  not  put 
a  dollar  in  my  pocket,  but  in  all  probability  takes  many  a 
dollar  out  of  it? 

"You  thought  it  was  profitable,  eh? 


394  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Well,  I  suppose  your  ideas  are  based  entirely  upon  the 
fact  that  the  average  college  professor  lives  well,  dresses 
well,  and  drives  a  fine  turnout.  Such  things  do  not  neces- 
sarily indicate  prosperity,  and  where  they  do,  it  by  no  means 
follows  that  college  influences  have  had  anything  to  do  with 
it.  Such  outward  appearances  are  the  result  of  a  sort  of 
blackmail  that  society  levies  upon,  every  doctor,  and  especially 
upon  the  college  professor. 

"Very  few  colleges  indeed,  pay  even  a  meagre  salary  to 
their  teachers ;  none  of  them  pay  one  tenth  part  of  the  value 
of  the  time,  talent  and  energy  necessary  to  successful  teach- 
ing. To  be  sure,  occasional  consultation  fees  drift  toward 
the  college  professor,  but  where  he  gains  one  fee  in  this 
manner,  he  loses  a  dozen  that  are  diverted  into  other  chan- 
nels by  physicians  whose  sympathies  are  enlisted  for  some 
rival  college,  or,  what  is  more  logical,  who  recognize  the 
medical  school  as  an  enemy  to  the  profession  at  large — as  I 
really  believe  it  to  be  upon  the  average,  with  the  present 
methods  of  conducting  free  clinics  and  hospitals. 

"  The  clinical  teaching  in  vogue  in  the  majority  of  medical 
schools  and  hospitals,  is  gradually,  but  surely,  sapping  the 
vitality  and  prosperity  of  the  general  profession,  by  ill-ad- 
vised and  undeserved  charity.  The  profession  has  long 
realized  this,  and  there  has  been  a  justifiable,  and — to  medical 
teachers — an  unprofitable,  undercurrent  of  resentment  on 
the  part  of  medical  men. 

"My  boy,  if  you  have  no  special  predilection  for  a  teach- 
ing career,  keep  out  of  college  faculties.  The  best  results  in 
the  way  of  practice,  are  to  be  obtained  by  relying  absolutely 
upon  the  good  will  of  the  general  public.  The  man  who  does 
this,  and  goes  quietly  about  his  work,  is  the  man  who  has 
something  to  probate  when  he  dies — the  college  professor 
often  leaves  nothing  but  debts  behind  him. 

"And  yet,  teaching  is  fascinating  to  one  who  is  fond  of 
his  subject,  and,  what  is  more  important,  who  understands 
his  students.  Your  medical  student  is  a  thoroughly  good 
fellow,  when  you  know  how  to  take  him. 

"He  has  hardships  enough  to  make  him  morose,  work 
enough  to  drive  the  average  man  crazy,  temptations  enough 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  395 

to  divert  the  attention  of  the  most  level-headed  young-  fellow, 
and  yet,  through  it  all — as  the  old  song-  has  it — 

'  Your  student  is  a  jolly  man 
And  blest  with  sterling-  sense, 
He  gets  along  as  best  he  can, 
Tho'  wanting  dimes  and  cents. 
He  never  wastes  a  single  tear 
On  what  he  cannot  fix, 
And  never  shows  a  sign  of  fear 
At  fortune's  scurvy  tricks. 

He  pegs  away  at  books  and  pills, 

His  life  to  science  lent, 

And  only  cares  to  live  and  learn, 

And  pay  his  weekly  rent. 

Oh  yes  he  is  a  jolly  man, 

Tho'  poor  as  any  mouse, 

He  laughs  as  hearty  as  he  can, 

With  nothing  in  the  house. 

He  never  cares  for  fair-day  friends, 

He  steers  his  own  canoe; 

He  borrows  not — he  will  not  lend*, 

Unless  he  must  so  do. 

You'll  always  find  him  on  the  tramp 

Along  dull  wisdom's  path, 

He  often  burns  the  midnight  lamp 

And  daily  takes  a  bath. 

He  keeps  a  lock  upon  his  heart, 

No  mistress  gay  has  he, 

Unless  it  be  his  books  and  pills 

And  his  yearned-for  legal  fee. ' 

"I  have  often  thought  that  the  most  popular  man  with 
students,  is  the  teacher  who  fraternizes  with  them  upon  the 
common  ground  of  good-fellowship.  There  is  something, 
too,  in  being  confidential  with  them. 

"Another  point  worthy  of  attention,  is  this:  The  man 
who  is  most  arrogant  and  pedantic  in  manner,  who  exhibits 
most  of  the  '  big  I  and  little  you  '  quality,  is  almost  always  a 
failure  as  a  medical  teacher.  The  faculty  may  retain  him, 
but  the  students  bury  him  in  oblivion — as  soon  as  they  have 
passed  his  chair  in  the  examinations. 

"One  thing  in  which  some  professors  make  a  mistake,  is 
the  view  that  the  student  is  necessarily  dishonest.  The 


396 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


medical  student  is,  in  my  opinion,  pretty  high  in  the  scale  of 
square-dealing1  and  honesty-  He  is  human,  of  course,  but  I 
believe  that  a  system  of  espionage  often  makes  a  dishonest 
student  out  of  a  square  one. 


\J 


"HE  OFTEN  BURNS  THE  MIDNIGHT  LAMP." 


"  There's  little  use  in  watching-  a  slippery  fellow  anyway 
— his  shrewdness  is  equal  to  his  meanness,  and  he  is  hard  to 
catch  in  his  various  iniquities.  But  his  dishonesty  is  its  own 
reward.  He  rides  through  the  portals  of  the  college  out  into 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  397 

the  world  on  his  smart  little  '  pony  '  and,  for  a  while,  cuts  a 
very  pretty  figure.  But,  as  Lincoln  said,  '  You  can  fool  some 
of  the  people  all  the  time  and  all  the  people  some  of  the  time,' 
but  by  all  the  gods!  'you  can't  fool  all  the  people  all  of  the  time. ' 

"  Our  medical  tin  soldier  finds  this  out  in  due  time.  His 
Rosinante  is,  after  all,  spavined,  wind-broken,  and  has  the 
string-halt  and  blind-staggers.  When  his  crippled  pony 
falls,  the  pretender  goes  deep  down  into  the  mud  of  forget- 
fulness  and — there  he  sticks.  Even  the  boy  who  ambled  out 
of  school  on  a  mule,  rides  triumphantly  by  him — the  mule 
was  slow,  but  honest  and  well  nourished — there's  the  differ- 
ence. 

"Aside  from  the  fact  that  honesty  is  in  the  long  run  most 
profitable  to  the  student,  there  is  a  sublime  satisfaction  in 
the  sense  of  having  gotten  the  best  out  of  one's  self.  Hard, 
honest  work  always  counts,  even  though  the  plodder  may 
not  always  get  his  name  upon  the  roll  of  honor  of  his  college. 

"Observing  the  hard  work  of  the  industrious  scholar 
throughout  his  after-life,  however,  we  find  many  a  sup- 
posedly dull  man,  who,  perhaps,  has  suffered  by  comparison 
with  the  superficial  and  dishonest  student — making  a  name 
for  himself  by  valuable  contributions  to  science. 

"There  are  those  pessimists  who  cry,  'Of  what  good 
is  all  this  toil,  and  wherein  does  it  profit  me?  Life  is  an 
ephemeral  dream  at  best,  and  the  game  not  worth  the  candle. 
Man  is  born,  he  lives,  and  works  to  live;  he  dies  and  is  buried 
— where's  the  use?' 

"Ah!  my  brother  toilers  of  the  midnight  lamp — are  our 
lives  laborious,  and  our  pathway  thorny  ?  They  are— Science 
is  a  hard  task-mistress,  and  he  wyho  worships  at  her  shrine, 
must  be  as  patient  as  the  penitents  of  old,  as  self-sacrificing 
as  the  pilgrims,  as  coui'ageous,  faithful  and  chivalric  as  the 
crusader  of  the  days  of  courtly  knight  and  stately  dame. 
And  is  our  reward  great?  Nay  nay,  the  horny-handed 
mechanic,  has  a  better  average  chance  of  survival  than  we. 

"Well  might  the  most  optimistic,  the  most  faithful, 
among  us  cry,  'What  good?'  Oh,  what  indeed! 

"  '  Cui  bono?'  cries  the  pessimist.  Bah!  his  liver  is  out 
of  tune. 


398  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  '  Cui  bono?'  cries  the  brassy- mouthed  Shylock,  in 
search  of  his  commercial  pound  of  flesh. 

"  '  Cui  bono? '  whispers  the  coward,  whose  red  corpuscles 
were  long-  ago  devoured  by  the  white — 

"Can  we  answer  these  piteous  plaints?  We  can,  hope- 
fully, tersely,  bravely,  and  with  a  sublime  faith  in  the 
survival  of  the  fittest. 

"  The  history  of  scientific  progress  shows  a  vast  pro- 
cession of  departed  shades,  filing-  silently  into  the  valley  of 
oblivion.  In  those  shadowy  ranks  may  be  found  the  expound- 
ers of  the  fantastic  creeds  and  quasi-scientific  sophistry  of 
past  ages.  Side  by  side  with  these  old-time  excrescences 
upon  the  body  scientific,  stalk  the  ghouls  and  goblins  of 
quackery — gaunt  and  grim.  The  chill  depths  of  Lethe  yawn 
to  receive  them.  Down,  down  they  go  into  the  stream  of  for- 
getfulness,  and  the  gates  of  obscurity  close  behind  them 
forever!  Their  works  live  not  after  them.  They  are  the 
snow  images  of  science,  and  cannot  endure  in  the  warm  sun- 
light of  history. 

"Far  different  is  the  lot  of  him  whose  work  is  the  out- 
pouring of  a  logical  mind,  inspired  by  honesty,  and  that 
ardent  devotion  to  the  cause  of  humanity  that  the  scientist 
alone  has  shown  the  world  through  all  the  ages'.  The  last 
sleep  is  to  him  but  that  rest  which  kind  Nature  gives  to  the 
humblest  and  the  greatest  of  her  sons  alike. 

"We  cry,  '•vale!'1  to  the  hero  of  science,  and  wish  him 
pleasant  dreams,  but  we  dismiss  not  his  fame  to  the  shadowy 
valley  of  dead  lumber.  We  forget  only  that  which  was  'of 
the  earth,  earthy.'  We  keep  green  the  memory  of  his  noble 
works — those  qualities  of  mind  and  heart  that  we  admired, 
and  loved,  and  venerated,  can  never  be  forgotten. 

"It  has  been  said  by  some  skeptic,  that  immortality  is 
another  name  for  posterity.  Possibly  some  may  quarrel 
with  this  cynical  sentiment.  No  one,  however,  can  deny 
that  immortality  which  the  delver  in  science  or  in  letters 
gains  through  the  creations  of  his  brain. 

"Is  Newton  dead?  Ask  our  little  children  who  it  was 
that  discovered  the  law  of  gravitation. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  399 

"Is  Shakespeare  dead?  Ask  the  little  tatterdemalion 
who  brings  your  morning-  paper — he  will  tell  you  of  the 
pleasant  hours  he  has  spent  with  good  Tom  Keane,  ranting 
the  lines  of  Richard  the  Third,  and  if  you  but  suggest  a  scin- 
tilla of  confidence  in  Ignatius  Donnelly,  he  will  boycot  you. 

"Is  Stephenson  dead?  His  spirit  pulsates  in  every 
throb  of  the  mighty  monsters  that  speed  along  the  iron  rails 
of  our  great  commercial  arteries. 

"Is  Priestly  dead?  You,  my  boy,  who  are  fresh  from 
the  quiz  room,  may  answer. 

"Is  Hippocrates  dead?  Ask  the  veriest  tyro  in  medi- 
cine. 

"Is  Benjamin  Rush  dead?  Ask  the  records  of  the  noble 
institutions  devoted  to  the  care  of  those  poor,  stricken  beings 
— our  insane.  If  they  do  not  answer,  read  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  and  see  who  signed  it. 

"If  these  men  be  dead,  then  is  the  foundation  stone  of 
my  faith  in  immortality  torn  rudely  away,  and  I  must  echo 
the  plaint  of  the  pessimist — 'Life  is  not  worth  the  living.' 

"  Death  is  not  the  fate  of  such  as  they.  They  are  born 
again,  with  each  new  life  that  enters  the  world.  The  Goddess 
of  Fame  says  in  the  language  of  the  immortal  of  immortals 
in  literature,  'I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life.'  The  fame 
of  our  heroes  is  resurrected  with  the  first  prattle  of  the 
childish  lips  that  recount  their  names  and  deeds. 

"Such  spirits  breathe  their  vitality  into  all  the  treasures 
of  art,  science  and  letters  of  their  day  and  generation.  Their 
blood  will  course  through  the  veins  of  all  generations  to  come. 
Their  glory  descends  to  posteritv,  freed  from  the  dross  of 
worldliness  with  which  their  earthly  existence  encumbered  it; 
speeds  on  through  futurity  with  gathering  lustre,  and  blends 
with  the  river  Time,  on  its  way  to  that  mighty  intellectual 
ocean  toward  which  the  tiny  rivulets  and  majestic  streams  of 
human  ambition  ever  flow. 

"With  the  records  of  our  past  leaders  before  us,  shall 
we,  like  cowards,  cry,  'Cui  bono?'— or  shall  we  up  and  do  our 
level  best? 

"It  is  not  given  to  every  man  to  be  a  genius,  but  to  all 
men  is  given  the  precious  privilege  of  self-development  within 


400  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

the  range  of  each  individual  capacity.  The  birds  of  spring- 
carol  the  fame  of  Audubon ;  the  delicate  violet  and  the  majestic 
oak  alike,  embalm  the  renown  of  Linnaeus  in  fragrance,  or 
picture  it  against  the  landscape  in  rug-g-ed,  stately  beauty. 
The  living-  rock  beneath  our  feet  is  emblazoned  with  the  deeds 
of  Agassiz,  making-  pag-es  of  a  history  most  sublime.  Many 
fathoms  down  at  the  bottom  of  old  ocean,  the  little  coral  insect 
has  built  a  monument  to  the  immortal  Darwin  that  will  endure 
till  the  end  of  earth.  The  doctor,  with  his  fing-er  on  the  pulse 
of  humanity,  pays  just  and  humble  tribute  to  the  g-enius  of 
the  immortal  Harvey,  who  discovered  the  circulation  of  the 
blood. 

"And  so,  there  is  an  immortality  worth  striving- for,  more 
tang-ible  and  real  than  that  of  the  soul;  not  to  be  reached  by 
the  devious  path  of  creed  or  spiritual  phantasm — yet  open  to 
all  but  the  unfit. 

"The  achievements  of  the  genius  may  flare  up  with 
dazzling-  brilliancy,  only  to  g-o  out  in  smoke,  but  that  smoke 
is  incense  on  the  altar  of  progress.  To  the  honest  worker 
are  thrown  the  pearls  of  fame — let  him  g-ather  them  quickly, 
lest  they  be  trodden  in  the  mire  of  oblivion  by  the  swine  of 
dishonesty  and  the  black  beasts  of  quackery. 

"The  world  may  sing-  of  its  Alexanders  and  Napoleons, 
but  there  are  no  heroes  like  ours  of  science! 

"And  so,  my  boy,  join  with  me  in  a  tribute  to  those  who 
have  immolated  their  lives  upon  the  altar  of  science,  that  you 
and  I — we  of  humbler  mould — mig-ht  drink  of  the  waters  of 
knowledge. 

"A  health  to  our  unforg-otten — those  immortals  of  fame 
whose  names  adorn  the  roll  of  honor  of  the  student  of  science 
and  of  letters,  the  world  over ! 

'  They  shall  resist  the  empire  of  decay, 
When  time  is  o'er  and  worlds  have  passed  away. 
Tho'  in  the  dust  their  perished  hearts  may  lie, 
Their  name  and  fame  can  never  die. '  " 


"But,  to  return  to  our  story: 

"It  was  on  a  calm,  sultry  evening-  in  the  month  of  July  1860, 
that  I  embarked  on  board  a  steamboat  plying-  between  San 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  401 

Francisco  and  Stockton,  the  latter  city  being-  the  gateway  by 
which  I  was  to  enter  the  wonderful  country  which  was  dis- 
tinguished by  the  wealth  and  necessity  of  doctors  so  graph- 
ically described  by  my  friend,  Mr.  Allen.  From  Stockton,  I 
must  continue  my  journey  by  stage — the  slower  process  of 
walking,  though  economical,  being  for  many  and  obvious 
reasons,  not  to  be  preferred. 

"The  trip  up  the  Sacramento  river,  although  pleasant 
enough,  had  very  little  novelty  about  it,  and  I  confess  that  I  at 
first  experienced  a  feeling  of  disappointment  at  the  lack  of 
entertainment  which  the  scenery  afforded — but  I  was  soon 
to  have  all  the  excitement  my  system  was  able  to  stand. 

"Our  route  lay  for  a  relatively  short  distance  up  the 
Sacramento,  the  major  portion  of  my  journey  being  com- 
prised by  one  of  its  tributaries — the  San  Joaquin— a  stream 
that  is  insignificant  enough  during  the  dry  season,  but  which 
in  the  early  spring  is  so  formidable  as  to  make  a  very  decided 
impression  of  its  capacity  for  evil,  upon  the  beholder— 
especially  if  he  happen  to  be  living  near  enough  to  the  river 
to  get  the  benefit  of  its  overflow  during  the  spring  freshets. 

"We  had  hardly  entered  the  San  Joaquin,  before  the 
exciting  entertainment  to  which  I  have  alluded,  began — I 
received  my  first  introduction  to  the  mosquito  of  the  tule 
country. 

"I  suppose,  my  boy,  that  you  see  no  novelty  in  this, 
indeed,  I  myself,  had  not  entertained  the  idea  that  the  mos- 
quito had  any  special  points  of  interest  other  than  those  with 
which  I  was  already  acquainted — but  I  didn't  know  the  Cali- 
fornia variety. 

"When  the  mosquito  of  the  San  Joaquin  valley  first 
dawned  upon  my  astonished  vision,  he  came  in  a  tentative 
manner,  singly  or  in  pairs.  My  first  impression  was,  that  it 
was  a  fine,  toothsome  variety  of  snipe  or  woodcock,  with 
which  I  had  to  deal.  For  a  moment  I  regretted  that  I  had 
not  brought  a  shot-gun  with  me — there  seemed  to  be  good 
hunting  en  route.  The  next  minute  I  had  classified  my  dis- 
covery as  vampires,  and  then  I  yearned  for  a  suit  of  armor. 
Those  poniard-billed  devils  had  made  the  discovery  that  I  was 
a  tenderfoot,  and,  what  was  much  more  to  their  hellish  pur- 


402 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


pose,  a  'tender-hide.'     They  now  came  in  buzzing-,  humming-, 
whirring-  clouds ! 

"And  with  what  creditor-like  persistency  did  they  pre- 
sent their  bills — and  such  bills!  They  double-discounted 
those  of  all  the  plumbers  on  earth !  I  have  been  truly  and 
reverently  thankful  ever  since  my  California  experience,  that 
no  tule  mosquito  ever  broke  off  his  insinuating-,  bayonet-like 
bill  in  my  shrinking,  all-too-tender  flesh. 

"  The  g-ood  people  of  New  Jersey  fancy  they  have  adult, 
robust  mosquitoes  in  their  country,  but  they  should  see  the 
tule-bred  g-entleman !  He  is  to  the  Jersey  variety  as  is  a  sand- 
piper to  a  sand-hill 
crane.  He  has  a  bill 
like  a  sword-fish,  an 
appetite  like  a  hun- 
gry wolf,  a  soul  like 
Jack  the  Ripper,  and 
a  conscience — like  a 
corporation. 

"Is  the  mosquito 
of  the  San  Joaquin  a 
bird?  He  is;  he  is  a 
hawk,  a  buzzard  and 
a  screech-owl  all  in 
one.  Is  he  an  insect? 
Well — perhaps.  He 
may  be  an  insect — if 
the  tsetse  fly  is  indigenous  to  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquin, 
or  if  it  be  possible  to  cross  the  spicy  yellow-jacket  and  the 
tarantula. 

"  There  are  no  crocodiles  in  the  California  marshes— but 
there  are  mosquitoes  that  can  give  the  festive  saurian  '  cards 
and  spades. ' 

"The  unabridged  mosquito  of  California  has  just  one 
redeeming  trait,  which  he  shares  in  common  with  his  cold- 
blooded relative,  the  rattlesnake;  he  does  most  musically 
warn  his  victim  of  his  cruel  intentions.  But  woe  betide  the 
man  who  cannot  or  will  not  heed  the  warning!  It  is  related 
that  a  certain  citizen  of  Stockton,  once  upon  a  time,  went  on  a 


"FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR." 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  403 

howling-  drunk  and  finally  landed  in  a  bed  of  tules,  where  he 
proceeded  to  take  a  nap.  When  he  was  eventually  found,  most 
of  that  precious  eighteen  pounds  of  blood  which  the  physiolo- 
gists tell  us  a  full-grown  man  should  contain,  was  g"one,  and 
not  being1  able  to  follow  a  juiceless  career,  the  gentleman 
died.  All  of  which  shows  the  fallacy  of  trying1  to  kill  germs 
by  the  internal  administration  of  antiseptics.  Even  the  mos- 
quitoes were  not  deterred  from  assailing  that  hapless  man, 
though  his  hide  was  full  of  firewrater  such  as  no  country  but 
California  ever  produced.  Still,  it  mig-ht  be  interesting-  to 
know  what  became  of  those  buzzy,  murderous  inebriates  who 
lunched  off  that  fellow's  blood.  — 

"  The  San  Joaquin  river  is,  without  doubt,  the  crookedest 
navig-able  stream  in  the  world.  There  was  never  a  snake 
that  could  contort  himself  into  so  fantastic  an  outline  as  pre- 
sented by  that  lazily  meandering-  branch  of  the  Sacramento. 
So  crooked  is  it,  that  one  entertains  a  constant  dread  of  run- 
ning ashore — the  bank  is  always  dead  ahead  and  unpleasantly 
near. 

"This  serpentine  river  traverses  a  perfectly  level  plain 
throughout  the  navig-able  part  of  its  course,  its  banks  being- 
flanked  by  tule  beds  which  extend  farther  than  the  eye  can 
see — indeed,  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquin  is  one  vast  bed  of 
tules,  extending-  fully  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  When, 
as  is  occasionally  the  case  after  the  dry  season,  during-  the 
fall  and  early  winter  months,  the  tule  beds  happen  to  be  on 
fire,  the  spectacle,  especially  at  nig-ht,  is  at  once  grand  and  ter- 
ribly impressive.  I  remember  on  one  occasion  taking"  a  nig-ht 
trip  up  the  river  during-  one  of  these  fires.  The  scene  in 
the  vicinity  of  Monte  Diablo,  was  one  of  the  most  majestic 
and  awe-inspiring- 1  have  ever  witnessed.  The  name  of  'The 
Devil's  Mountain'  had  never  seemed  so  sing-ularly  appropriate 
as  on  that  occasion. 

"It  wTas  nearly  three  o'clock  in  the  morning-  when  I 
arrived  at  Stockton,  and,  as  there  was  nothing-  to  be  g-ained 
by  gfoing-  ashore,  I  remained  aboard  the  boat,  determined  to 
get  the  full  benefit  of  a  morning-  nap.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
I  had  just  closed  my  eyes,  when  I  was  awakened  by  the  yell- 
ing- of  the  roustabouts  and  stage  ag-ents  on  the  wharf.  I  had 


404 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


barely  time  to  dress,  hustle  ashore  and  hurriedly  swallow  a 
cup  of  coffee,  before  my  stage  was  ready  to  start,  and  I  was 
off  for  Jacksonville— the  particular  town  of  Tuolumne  county 

that  I  had  determined  to  favor 
with  my  medical  skill  and  for- 
tune-hungry ambition. 


A  NIGHT   ON  THE  SAN   JOAQUIN 


"  There  was  nothing1  pleasant  about  that  stage  ride — it 
was  alone  memorable  for  its  inconveniences  and  its  motley 
load  of  passengers.  A  hot,  dusty,  bumping  journey  in  the 
old-time  California  stage,  makes  very  pretty  reading  as  Bret 
Harte  has  described  it,  but  I  am  free  to  say  that  I  was  not 
sufficiently  romantic  to  enable  me  to  do  the  subject  justice — 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  405 

from  his  standpoint  at  least.  The  red  dust  of  the  California 
stage  road  g-ets  into  a  fellow's  system  so  deeply  that  his  ideas 
are  apt  to  be  of  a  practical  or  perhaps  profane  sort,  even 
though  he  be  quite  sentimental. 

"Picturesque,  however,  the  ride  certainly  was;  my  fel- 
low passengers  were  nearly  all  worthy  of  study,  and,  had  I 
been  an  artist,  would  have  received  pictorial  attention.  Sev- 
eral red-shirted,  rough-bearded  miners,  lent  just  the  rig-lit 
touch  of  local  color,  while  the  imitation  frontiersman — of 
whom  I  was  the  type — was  sufficiently  well  represented  to 
afford  a  suitable  foil  for  the  genuine  article,  as  typified  by 
my  brawny-chested,  be-pistoled,  unkempt  fellow  passen- 
g-ers. 

"In  one  corner  of  the  stage,  was  a  little  chap  who  was 
evidently  what  we  would  call  a  dude  nowadays.  This  young 
g-entleman  had  done  his  level  best  to  put  a  bold  front  on 
matters,  by  rigging-  himself  out  like  a  cowboy.  The  result 
was  somewhat  ludicrous,  as  you  might  imagine.  Nor  was 
the  poor  little  idiot  by  any  means  unconscious  of  his  features 
of  incongruity — he  realized  most  keenly  the  absurdity  of  his 
position  and  the  fact  that  he  was  being  guyed.  The  miners 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  situation  immensely,  however. 

"'Say,  pardner,'  said  one  tawny-bearded  giant,  leaning 
toward  the  innocent,  and  startling  him  so  that  his  eye-glasses 
nearly  dropped  off  his  nose — 'Gimme  a  pull  et  yer  pistol,  wont 
ye?' 

"  'Aw,  beg  pawdon,  sir,  what  did  you  say?'  stammered 
the  dude. 

"  -  Wy,  I  s'posed  ye  could  understan'  th'  English  lang- 
widge,'  replied  the  miner,  'but  seein'  ez  how  ye  don't,  I'll 
translate  her  to  ye.  I  axed  ye  ter  give  me  er  pull  et  yer 
whisky  bottle.' 

"'Aw,  really,'  said  the  innocent,  'I'd  be  chawmed,  you 
know,  doncher  know,  but  I  don't  carry  the  article.  In  fact, 
sir,  I  nevaw  dwink.' 

"  •  Ye  don't  say  so?  Wall,  I  want  ter  know!'  answered 
the  miner.  '  Now, see  hyar,  sonny,  seein'  ez  how  ye  haint  got 
no  whisky,  jes'  gimme  er  chaw  uv  terbacker  an'  we'll  callet 
squarV 


406  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

k' '  I — aw — I'm  sorry  to  say  that  I  don't  use  tobacco,  sir.' 

"'Sho!  g'  long-  young-  feller!  Is — thet — so?  How  ther 
h — 1  d'ye  keep  er  g-oin'?  Whut  d'ye  do  fer  excitement — 
p'raps  ye  plays  poker,  eh?'  said  the  stalwart  son  of  the 
pick. 

"  'Oh,  no!'  exclaimed  the  tenderfoot,  in  dismay,  'I  nevaw 
play  cards ! ' 

"'Ye  don't  tell  me!'  replied  the  miner,  'Wall!  wall! 
wall!  By  ther  way,  young-  feller;  be  keerful  not  ter  lose  'em 
—ye  mout  need  'em  ter  git  home  with.' 

"  '  Need  what,  sir? '  asked  the  victim. 

"  '  Yer  wing-s!' — and  the  miners  broke  out  in  a  huge 
g-uffaw  that  bade  fair  to  dislocate  a  wheel  of  the  stage,  and 
impelled  the  driver  to  look  anxiously  and  inquiringly  at  his 
passengers. 

"  The  tenderfoot  collapsed,  and  remained  in  a  state  of 
complete  paralysis  until  he  arrived  at  his  destination,  which, 
fortunately  for  his  sensitive  organization,  happened  to  be  the 
first  town  where  we  changed  horses.  As  he  minced  gingerly 
away  toward  the  hotel,  the  miners  winked  at  each  other  most 
prodigiously.  Happening  to  catch  the  big  fellow's  eye,  by  a 
happy  inspiration  I  was  impelled  to  wink  too — this  at  once 
established  me  on  a  friendly  footing  with  my  rough  com- 
panions, and  as  I  happened  to  have  a  bottle  of  fairly  good 
liquor  with  me,  the  rest  of  the  way  into  the  regard  of  those 
simple  miners  was  easily  traversed. 

"  During  the  conversation  that  naturally  followed  the  un- 
conventional formation  of  our  acquaintance,  the  big-bearded 
fellow  who  appeared  to  be  the  leader  of  the  little  party  of 
miners,  following  the  blunt  fashion  of  the  country  suddenly 
remarked — 

"  'By  ther  way,  stranger,  whut  mout  be  yer  name,  an' 
whut  part  uv  ther  diggin's  mout  ye  be  headin'  fer?' 

"  'Well,'  I  replied,  smilingly,  'it  is  about  time  we  intro- 
duced ourselves,  isn't  it?  My  name  is  William  Weymouth, 
recently  of  Kentucky,  a  doctor  by  profession,  and  bound  for 
Jacksonville,  where  I  contemplate  digging  gold  when  the 
weather  will  permit,  and  practicing  medicine  when  it  will 
not.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  407 

" "  Er  doctor,  an'  bound  fer  Jacksonville,  eh?  Wall,  Doc  ,' 
said  my  new  acquaintance,  reaching-  out  his  grimy  paw  with 

a  cordiality  that  could  not  be  mistaken,  'I'm  d d  glad  ter 

know  ye!  Jacksonville  is  our  town,  an'  er  h — 1  uv  er  good 
town  she  is  et  thet,  y'u  bet!  We're  jes'  gittin'  back  from 
'Frisco — an'  doin'  it  on  tick,  too.  We've  bin  doin'  ther  sport 
racket  down  yonder,  an'  I  reckon  ther  sports  hevdone  us,  eh, 
pards?' 

"  His  '  pards  '  having-  acquiesced,  my  brawny  friend  cut 
off  a  huge  chew  of  'nigger  heel,'  stowed  it  away  in  his 
capacious  cheek,  and  after  a  few  preliminary  expectorations 
that  resembled  geysers,  continued — 

"'Ef  et  hedn't  bin  fer  ole  Tom  McDougall  up  thar  on 
ther  box,  we'd  er  took  Walker's  line  back  ter  our  claims '- 
and  the  big  miner  glanced  gratefully  in  the  direction  of  the 
generous  Mr.  McDougall. 

"  '  And  now  that  I  have  found  that  you  are  to  be  my  fellow 
townsmen,'  I  said, pleasantly,  'permit  me  to  remind  you  that 
the  introduction  has  been  one-sided.  What  are  your  names, 
may  I  ask?' 

"The  miner  winked  at  his  companions,  laughed  a  little, 
deep  down  in  his  huge  red  beard,  and  replied — 

"  'D d  ef  I  didn't  fergit  thet  thar  wuz  two  sides  ter 

ther  interdoocin'  bizness.  Ye  see,  stranger,  we  aint  payin' 
much  attention  ter  fellers'  handles  in  ther  mines.  Most 
eiiny  ole  thing  '11  do  fer  er  name.  Thet's  why  we  sometimes 
fergits  our  manners.  This  yere  gang  is  purty  well  supplied 
with  names,  but  ye  moutn't  hev  sich  good  luck  ev'ry  time, 
'specially  in  Tuolumne  county,  eh,  pards?' 

" 'His  'pards'  having  again  nodded  and  winked  their 
approval,  my  brawny  friend  proceeded  with  his  introduc- 
tions. 

"'I'm  called  in  ther  diggin's,  by  sev'ral  names,  an'  y'u 
kin  do  like  ther  rest  uv  my  f ren's — take  yer  pick.  I'm  mostly 
known  ez  'Big  Brown,'  tho'  some  folks  calls  me  'Big  Sandy.' 
When  I  wuz  in  ther  states,  I  b'lieve  they  used  ter  call  me 
'Daniel  W.  Brown,'  but  I  wouldn't  swar  to  et.  This  feller 
nex'  ter  me  hyar,  is  the  'hon'able  Mister  Dixie,  er  'Snub- 
nose  Dixie,'  fer  short,  who  aint  never  hed  much  ter  say 


408  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

erbout  his  other  name,  ef  he  ever  hed  enny,  eh,  Dixie?  Thet 
lantern-jawed  cuss  settin'  'long-  side  uvy'u,  is  Deacon  Jersey, 
utherwise  an'  more  faver'bly  known  ez  Link  Spears.  We 
calls  him  'deacon,'  coz  he  wuz  never  inside  uv  er  church  in 
his  hull  life.  He's  th'  only  genooine  deacon  this  side  uv  ther 
Sierras.  Thar  aint  none  uv  ther  hypercrit'  erbout  him 
nuther,  I  kin  tell  ye.  Ye'll  find  us  fellers'  tastes  kinder  runs 
erlike,  f'r  instance — '  and  Big-  Brown  looked  longingly  in  the 
direction  of  my  'pistol '  pocket.* 

"  'In  the  matter  of  thirst,'  I  suggested. 

"'Right  y'u  air,  Doc!  I  kin  see  y'u  air  goin'  ter  be  er 
valooable  addition  to  our  dig-gin's.  We  need  er  doctor  ez  kin 
tell  whut's  ther  matter  with  er  feller  'thout  cuttin'  him  wide 
open.  Ye  see,  we  likes  ter  keep  our  own  han's  in,  an'  don't 
kalkerlate  ter  leave  much  uv  ther  cuttin'  ter  ther  doctor — 
ennyhow,  'till  we've  hed  our  little  innin's,  eh,  boys?' 

"Once  again  the  boys  agreed,  with,  I  thought,  just  a 
slight  suspicion  of  gratified  vanity  in  their  expressions. 

"It  was  a  long,  weary  way  to  Jacksonville,  but  my  time 
was  well  spent.  Thanks  to  the  kindness  and  garrulity  of  my 
new-found,  yet  none  the  less  sincere,  friends,  and  the  confi- 
dence engendered  by  my  rapidly  diminishing  supply  of 
stimulants,  I  found  myself  by  the  time  I  arrived  at  my  desti- 
nation, fairly  well  acquainted  with  the  town,  its  ways,  and  its 
citizens. 

"Jacksonville,  at  the  time  I  landed  in  that  then  thriving 
place,  was  one  of  the  most  noted  mining  centers  in  the  placer 
country.  Its  location  was  most  picturesque.  Nestled  among 
the  foot-hills  of  the  glorious  Sierras  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tuolumne  river,  and  peopled  by  as  cosmopolitan  and  hetero- 
geneous a  population  as  was  ever  gathered  within  the  confines 
of  one  small  town,  my  new  home  was  attractive  because  of  its 
novelty,  if  nothing  more. 

"Ages  and  ages  of  alternately  falling  and  receding 
waters,  centuries  of  melting  snows  and  enormous  rainfalls, 


*The  author  asks  the  indulgence  of  such  of  the  Argonauts  of  Jacksonville  as  may 
still  be  living.  It  is  with  the  kindest  sentiments,  that  he  takes  unwonted  liberties 
with  the  names  of  men  who  form  the  most  picturesque  recollections  of  his  childhood. 
When  one's  memory  is  peopled  with  real  characters,  it  is  difficult  to  invent  fictitious 
ones.  In  the  author's  opinion,  it  would  be  wrong  to  do  so,  even  though  sanctioned  by 
usage. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  409 

had  washed  down  from  the  mountains  into  the  valley  of  the 
Tuolumne,  those  auriferous  particles,  the  great  abundance 
of  which  had  made  Jacksonville  spring-  into  busy  life  and 
thriving  prosperity,  almost  in  a  single  day. 

"But  the  very  elements  that  had  laid  the  alluring  founda- 
tion of  the  valley's  wealth,  were  even  then,  conspiring  to 
avenge  the  rifling  of  the  rich  deposits  of  the  valley  by  the 
irreverent  hands  of  the  modern  Argonauts. 

"  The  Tuolumne  river  was  a  variable  stream.  During- 
the  dry  season,  it  was  but  a  thin,  disjointed,  silvery  ribbon, 
across  which  one  could  walk  dry-shod,  in  places.  But  in  the 
early  spring,  the  little  stream  at  which  the  wayfarer  was 
wont  to  laugh,  and  in  wrhose  bed  the  eager  miner  delved  with 
impunity  and  profit,  took  revenge  upon  the  disturbers  of  its 
ancient  course — it  became  a  raging-  torrent,  resistlessly  car- 
rying all  before  it  and  oftentimes  severely  punishing  for  his 
temerity,  the  unwary  miner  who  had  pitched  his  tent  or  built 
his  rude  cabin  too  near  the  river  bank.  But  all  the  revenge 
which  the  Tuolumne  had  taken  in  all  the  years  since  the 
settlement  of  the  valley,  was  as  nothing  compared  with  that 
which  was  yet  to  come.  That  vale  of  thrift,  industry  and 
smiling  prosperity,  was  destined  to  be  a  valley  of  death,  de- 
struction, desolation  and  ruin. 

"But  were  not  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum  joyful  and 
unsuspecting  to  the  last?  And  why  should  the  people  of 
Tuolumne  dread  a  danger  of  which  familiarity  and  fancied 
security  had  made  them  forgetful,  or  possibly  even  con- 
temptuous. The  average  citizen  of  Jacksonville  could  calmly 
face  death  in  material  form,  and  why  should  he  concern  him- 
self with  that  which  regularly  passed  by  upon  the  other  side, 
with  each  succeeding  spring? 

"  By  no  means  the  least  attractive  feature  of  Jacksonville, 
was  the  rugged  self-confidence  and  honesty  of  the  majority 
of  its  people.  Even  the  Chinese,  who  composed  a  large  part 
of  the  population,  seemed  to  be  a  better  variety  of  the  almond- 
eyed  heathen  than  I  had  supposed  could  possibly  exist.  The 
hair-triggered  sensibility  and  powder-and-ball  ethics  of  the 
dominant  race,  seemed  to  be  most  effective  civilizers. 


410  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"lam  far  from  claiming-  that  Jacksonville  presented  an 
ideal  state  of  civilization,  but  this  I  do  say,  in  justice  to  my 
old  town;  life  and  property  were  safer  there  than  they  are 
to-day  in  many  more  pretentious  communities,  that  claim  to 
rank  as  centers  from  which  civilization  radiates  like  the  rays 
of  a  star.  A  sense  of  personal  responsibility  made  the  French 
the  politest  nation  on  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  it  was  the  founda- 
tion upon  which  the  spirit  of  the  'Old  South'  was  builded 
firmer  than  a  rock;  it  was  the  soul  that  beat  back  the  furious 
waves  of  shot  and  shell  that  sooften  hailed  upon  the  southern 
chivalry  on  many  a  hard-fought  field — a  similar  spirit  of  self- 
assertion  and  personal  responsibility  pervaded  the  Tuolumne 
valley,  and  raised  its  average  moral  standard  to  a  height 
beyond  that  of  many  a  metropolis  of  a  more  vicious  and  effete 
civilization. 

"Warm-hearted,  impulsive,  honest,  courageous,  fiery- 
tempered,  quick-trig-g-ered  Argonauts  of  the  Tuolumne  valley 
— a  health  to  those  of  you  who  still  live,  and  peace  to  those  who 
have  laid  down  the  pick  and  pan  forever  and  have  inspected 
their  sluice-boxes  for  the  last  time !  When  the  final  'clean-up ' 
comes,  may  the  'find'  be  full  of  nuggets — 'sixteen  dollars  to 
the  ounce!' 

"There  was  no  better  opportunity  of  becoming-  intimately 
acquainted  with  the  town  of  Jacksonville,  its  people  and  its 
customs,  than  was  afforded  by  the  Tuolumne  House,  where  I 
made  my  headquarters.  There  may  be  better  hotels  in  the 
world  than  that  primitive  one,  but  it  had  outgrown  its  canvas 
period  and  had  become  a  pretentious  frame  structure,  and 
that  fact  alone  made  it  famous.  It  had  no  rival,  for  the  old 
'Empire,'  so  long1  presided  over  by  that  honest,  sturdy  old 
Scot,  Rob  McCoun,  had  long-  since  been  converted  into  a 
Chinese  grocery,  while  its  erstwhile  owner  had  been  dead  for 
several  years.  As  for  the  only  other  hotel,  McGinnis,  its 
proprietor,  had  never  been  in  the  race  since  his  cook,  one 
unlucky  day,  brewed  the  coffee  and  tea  simultaneously  in  the 
same  pot.  The  hundred  and  seventy-odd  boarders  who  fed 
at  McGinnis'  festive  'rack'  were  not  to  be  consoled — they 
quit  him  'cold,'  and  went  over  to  the  enemy.  Tradition  savs 
that  'Mac'  half  killed  the  luckless  cook,  one  Mike  Corcoran, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  411 

'fer  puttin'  coffee  in  ther  tay  pot,  ther  d d  scoundrel ! '  but 

the  boarders  were  not  to  be  placated.* 

I  believe  this  tradition,  because  I  know  from  personal 
observation,  that  my  fellow  citizens  of  Jacksonville  were  very 
particular,  and  quite  sensitive  with  respect  to  the  quality  and 
quantity  of  liquids  that  entered  their  stomachs. 

"  Laying-  the  material  comforts  of  the  Tuolumne  House 
aside,  there  was  never  a  cheerier,  heartier,  pluckier  boniface. 
than  George  Keyse.  He  was  to  the  manner  born,  and  could 
take  a  gun  or  a  knife  away  from  an  excited  boarder  quite  as 
gracefully  and  quickly  as  he  could,  if  necessary,  turn  his  own 
flapjacks. 

"  Mr.  Keyse  had  an  invaluable  assistant  in  one  Dave 
Smug-gins,  who  officiated  alternately  as  barkeeper,  porter  and 
hotel  clerk.  Smuggins  was  a  well-bred  man,  and,  it  was  said, 
was  originally  educated  for  the  ministry.  The  only  evidence 
at  hand,  however,  was  certain  oratorical  propensities  that 
overcame  him  and  made  him  forget" his  real  position  when  he 
awakened  the  boarders  early  o'  morning's.  I  can  hear  him 
now,  as  he  stood  at  the  top  of  the  stairway,  yelling  in  sten- 
torian tones — 'Arouse  all  ye  sleepers!  an'  list  to  ther  purty 
little  airly  birds,  er  singin'  praises  tew  ther  Lord!  D— n  yer 
bloody  eyes!  git  up!'  saying  which,  the  modern  psalmist 
discreetly  went  below  and  took  his  position  behind  the  bar, 
ready  to  dispense  'eye-openers'  to  the  early  caller. 

"Jacksonville  proved  to  be  not  only  a  pleasant  place  of 
residence  but  an  excellent  field  for  my  professional  work. 
The  climate  was  almost  germ-proof,  and  it  was  a  real  pleasure 
to  practice  the  semi-military  surgery  characteristic  of  my 
field  of  labor.  Primary  union  was  my  specialty  in  those  days, 
and  I  used  to  get  results,  the  memory  of  which  sometimes 
makes  me  blush  for  those  I  occasionally  get  with  our  modern 
aseptic  and  antiseptic  methods.  No  matter  how  much  my 
patients  might  shoot  or  carve  each  other,  any  fellow  who  had 
enough  life  left  in  him  to  crawl,  or  be  carried,  off  the  field  of 
battle,  always  got  well. 

"Beyond  accompanying  an  occasional  prospecting  party, 
largely  for  recreation  but  partly  in  my  professional  capacity, 

*Axin'  Mr.  McGinnis'  pardon — if  he  be  still  living. — AUTHOR. 


412  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

I  did  but  little  in  the  direction  of  mining-.  My  practice  gave 
me  plenty  to  do,  and  was  lucrative  enough  as  practices  go, 
so  I  soon  settled  down  to  as  routine  a  life  as  my  curious  and 
lively  surrounding's  would  permit. 

"I  had  been  practicing-  in  Jacksonville  about  three 
months,  when  an  incident  occurred  in  which  a  former  casual 
acquaintance  figured  in  a  very  -peculiar  manner,  and  which 
served  to  variegate  my  already  interesting  experiences. 

"I  was  sitting  in  that  portion  of  the  Tuolumne  House 
yclept  by  courtesy  'the  office,'  quite  late  one  evening,  listen- 
ing to  the  quaint  talk  of  my  miner  friends,  and  marvelling  on 
the  quantity  of  fluid  the  human  body  could  lose  by  way  of 
expectoration,  and  still  live,  when  I  was  recalled  to  a  realiza- 
tion of  the  fact  that  I  was  a  practitioner  of  medicine,  by  a 
voice  at  the  hotel  door. 

"  'Say,  Doc,  kin  I  see  y'u  er  minnit?' 

"  Looking  up,  I  saw  standing  in  the  doorway,  one  of  the 
boys  who  was  most  familiarly  known  as  '  Toppy, '  his  'States ' 
name  being  'Ike  '  Dexter.  Toppy  motioned  for  me  to  come 
oul  upon  the  hotel  porch,  and  impressed  by  his  gravity  of 
manner  and  earnestness  of  gesticulation,  I  hastened  to  com- 
ply. 

"  '  What  is  it,  Toppy  ? '  I  asked. 

"  'Wall,'  he  said,  thar's  one  uv  my  fren's  whut's  bin  an' 
got  hisself  hurted,  an'  I  want  y'u  ter  come  an'  fix  him  up. 
He's  er  very  particular  fren'  an'  I'd  like  ter  hev  ye  do  yer 
best  on  him.  Ye  needn't  say  nuthin'  ter  ther  boys  erbout  it, 
jes'  now,  Doc.' 

"'Very  well,  Toppy,  I'll  go  with  you,  but  what  kind  of 
an  accident  has  befallen  your  friend?'  I  asked. 

" '  Oh,  I  dunno  ez  ye  could  jes'  call  it  er  accident,  Doc. 
It's  jest  er  little  shootin'  scrape,  thet's  all,  an'  I  reckon  ye'd 
better  take  sum  '  stracters  '  erlong.' 

"In  accordance  with  the  honest  miner's  suggestion  I  did 
take  some  bullet  extractors  with  me. 

"'Ye  see,  Doc,'  said  Toppy,  by  way  of  preparatory  ex- 
planation of  the  case  I  was  about  to  see,  'this  yere  fren'  uv 
mine  hez  bin  down  in  'Frisco  fer  a  spell,  an'  mout  hev  staid 
thar  er  good  while  longer,  only  some  feller  picked  er  row  with 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  413 

him.  Thar  wuz  er  duel,  an'  duels  aint  so  pop'lar  down 
'Frisco  way  ez  they  uster  wuz,  'specially  when  somebody  gits 
hurted.  A  real  bad  accident  happened  ter  th'  other  feller, 
an'  he  passed  in  his  checks.  Jim  —  thet's  my  fren' — got  er 
ball  in  his  thigh,  whut  stuck  thar,  an'  ez  he  didn't  hev  much 
time  ter  hunt  fer  er  doctor,  he  jes'  come  up  hyar  whar  it's 
kinder  quiet  like,  an'  we  thort  we'd  hev  y'u  sorter  look  arter 
ther  thing-.  Ye  see,  Jim  wont  keer  ter  git  'roun'  much  fer 
er  few  weeks — not  'till  thet  air  little  accident  gits  blowed 
over' — and  Toppy's  eyes  gleamed  humorously. 

"My  friend  led  me  down  to  the  river  bank,  and  pushing 
aside  a  clump  of  willows  revealed  a  small,  rudely  constructed 
row-boat. 

"'Ah!'  I  said,  as  I  took  my  seat  in  the  somewhat  inse- 
cure-looking and  cranky  little  craft,  'it  is  evident  that  you 
have  taken  your  friend  to  your  own  cabin.' 

"Toppy,  as  I  well  knew,  had  the  only  abode  on  the  op- 
posite bank  of  the  river,  where,  high  up  on  the  hillside,  in 
full  though  somewhat  distant  view  of  the  little  town,  he  had 
built  a  small  but  neat  cabin,  that  nestled  in  the  bosom  of  the 
hill,  looking  not  unlike  a  child's  playhouse  as  seen  from  the 
town  proper. 

"'Yep,'  replied  the  miner,  '  thar's  whar  he  is.  It  aint 
bes'  ter  depen'  too  much  on  pop'larity,  ye  know,  Doc,  an'  Jim 
'11  be  er  little  safer  over  thar  than  in  town.  Nobody  goes  ter 
mv  place — less'n  I  invite  'em,'  and  Toppy  grinned  sar- 
donically, as  he  thus  recalled  to  mind  the  fate  of  a  poor  devil 
who  did  go  to  his  cabin  without  an  invitation — from  Toppy— 
in  the  early  days  of  his  housekeeping  on  the  hillside,  when  a 
more  or  less  charming  little  Mexican  half-breed  damsel  was 
said  to  have  presided  over  Toppy's  domestic  affairs. 

Being  averse  to  the  discussion  of  people's  family  matters^ 
I  had  never  conversed  with  my  miner  friend  on  that  delicate 
subject.  To  tell  the  truth,  there  seemed  to  be  very  little 
encouragement  to  town  gossip  in  Jacksonville — town-talk  was 
too  direct  a  cut  to  the  little  collection  of  white  head-boards 
that  decorated  a  small  plateau  just  outside  the  town.  All  my 
information  on  such  subjects,  was  therefore  derived  from 
more  subtle  and  less  dangerous  airy  rumor. — 


414  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

* 

"  The  river  was  quite  low,  and  a  few  vigorous  pulls  from 
Toppy's  stalwart  arms  brought  us  to  the  opposite  shore, 
from  which  I  could  see,  far  up  the  hillside,  the  gleaming 
white  walls  of  the  miner's  rude  little  home,  where  lay  my 
prospective  patient. 

"  Toppy  was  notoriously  careless  in  his  personal  groom- 
ing, but  the  little  half-breed  had  evidently  inspired  a  coat  of 
white-wash  for  the  cabin,  that  endured  longer  than  the  senti- 
ment with  which  its  owner  had  inspired  that  swarthy  little 
traitress.  Possibly  that  gleaming  white  cabin  was  her 
monument — who  knows?  The  river  ran  dangerously  and 
temptingly  near,  considering  how  short  a  time  it  takes  to 
fall  a  few  hundred  feet  down  a  steep  and  rocky  hillside,  and 
rumor  whispered  that  Pepita — well,  no  one  knew  where  she 
was,  and  women  were  not  so  plentiful  in  the  Tuolumne  valley 
that  hiding  was  easy. 

"But  the  Tuolumne  kept  its  secret  well — if  it  had  one. 
Its  quick-sands  told  no  tales;  they  could  hide  the  precious 
gold  of  the  river  bottom,  why  not,  perhaps,  a  mouldering 
skeleton? 

"On  entering  Toppy's  cabin,  completely  winded  after 
my  climb  up  the  hill  that  constituted  his  front  ya  "d,  I  found 
my  patient  lying  on  a  cot  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  He 
turned  inquiringly  toward  the  door  as  his  host  and  I  entered, 
and  what  was  my  amazement  to  see  reflected  in  the  dim 
light  of  the  candle  with  which  the  cabin  was  illuminated,  the 
features  of  the  handsome  unknown  of  the  San  Francisco 
gambling-house,  whose  adventure  with  the  unfortunate 
young  southerner  I  have  already  related!  The  recognition 
was  evidently  mutual,  but  I  fancied  that  my  patient  looked  at 
me  with  an  expression  slightly  suggestive  of  annoyance. 

"  Toppy's  introduction  was  as  laconic  and  characteristic 
as  himself : 

"  '  Doc,  this  is  Jim — Jim,  this  yere's  Doc  Weymouth,  an' 
he's  all  right,  y'u  bet,  'specially  on  bullets  an'  sich  things.' 

"  I  was  used  to  California  customs,  hence  the  cognomen, 
'Jim,'  was  sufficiently  comprehensive,  and  perfectly  satis- 
factory to  me,  and  after  the  brief  introduction  that  my  miner 
friend  gave  me,  I  proceeded  to  investigate  my  case. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  415 

"As  Toppy  had  already  informed  me  of  the  circum- 
stances that  led  to  the  reception  of  my  patient's  wound,  I 
made  no  inquiry  in  that  direction.  I  found  also,  that  Toppy 
was  correct  as  to  the  location  of  the  injury — as  he  had  said, 
the  ball  had  entered  his  friend's  thigh. 

"  The  wound  had  been  inflicted  several  days  before  I 
saw  my  patient,  and  would  probably  have  healed  promptly 
enough  had  it  not  been  for  the  weary  ride  he  had  taken 
immediately  after  the  shooting- — he  had  come  to  Jacksonville 
on  horseback.  The  result  of  the  necessary  movement  in  the 
saddle,  tog-ether  with  the  hot  sun  and  dust  of  the  roads,  had 
been  to  produce  considerable  inflammation  of  the  injured 
part.  I  presume  that  now-a-days  the  surg-eon  would  seek  for 
no  other  cause  than  g-erm  infection  for  such  a  condition  as 
followed  the  wound  that  my  patient  had  received — but  at  that 
time,  thing's  were  different;  the  various  sources  of  irritation 
to  which  he  had  been  exposed  were  a  reasonable  explanation 
of  the  state  in  which  I  found  his  wound. 

"  The  wound  was  merely  muscular,  neither  important 
vessels  nor  bone  having  been  injured,  and  much  to  my  grati- 
fication, I  almost  immediately  succeeded  in  finding-  and 
extracting  the  ball. 

"'Jim,'  as  I  will  now  call  him,  stood  my  manipulations 
and  the  cutting-  I  found  necessary  in  the  extraction  of  the 
bullet,  without  the  slightest  indication  that  such  operations 
were  not  an  every-day  experience  with  him  —  this  was  not 
without  its  effect  upon  Toppy,  who  looked  upon  his  heroic 
friend  with  all  the  pride  and  tenderness  imaginable. 

"When  I  was  first  introduced  to  my  patient,  he  had 
merely  nodded  his  head  in  greeting.  He  did  not  speak 
thereafter,  until  I  had  finished  dressing  his  wound,  Toppy 
meanwhile  answering  all  the  necessary  questions.  It  seemed 
to  me,  also,  that  my  patient  rather  pointedly  avoided  scrutiny 
of  his  countenance — he  either  averted  his  face  or  shaded  it 
with  his  hand,  under  the  pretense  that  the  flickering  light  of 
the  candle  which  Toppy  held  for  me  affected  his  eyes,  dur- 
ing the  entire  time  of  my  surgical  attention. 

"I  gave  this  circumstance  hardly  a  second  thought; 
nothing  seemed  more  natural  than  that  my  patient  should 


416  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

desire  to  conceal  any  little  involuntary  expression  of  suffer- 
ing- that  might  have  disturbed  his  features  during-  my  some- 
what rough  and  exceedingly  painful  manipulations.  I  was 
struck,  however,  by  his  conduct  as  I  was  preparing  to  leave — 

"  'Doctor,'  he  said,  'I  am  very  sorry  that  my  old  friend 
Toppy  insisted  on  calling  you  to-night.  I  could  have  stood 
the  racket  till  morning,  and  your  rest  was  much  more  im- 
portant than  my  worthless  existence.  I  appreciate  your 
kindness,  sir,  and  wish  that  I  could  reciprocate  in  some  more 
fitting  manner  than  by  mere  financial  compensation.  How- 
ever, that's  the  best  I  can  do  now,'  saying  which,  my  patient 
reached  beneath  the  rude  mattress  upon  which  he  was  lying, 
drew  out  a  bag  of  gold,  and  without  further  ceremony  handed 
it  to  me. 

"  'I  wish  it  might  have  been  more,  my  dear  doctor,'  said 
Jim,  'but  I  came  away  from  'Frisco  in  a  deuce  of  a  hurry, 
and  without  heeling  myself  properly.  However,  I  have 
divided  evenly  with  you,  and  I  believe  such  a  rate  of  compen- 
sation is  usually  considered  fair  by  professional  men,1  and  he 
smiled  somewhat  mischievously,  his  black  eyes  twinkling 
with  humor. 

"  My  heart  warmed  toward  my  patient,  I  knew  not  why. 
It  certainly  was  not  because  of  his  liberality,  for  that  was 
common  enough  in  that  rude  mining  town,  where  the  people 
were  so  uncivilized  as  to  believe  that  a  physician's  services 
should  be  liberally  compensated.  I  kept  no  books  in  those 
days — my  patients  were  so  wil-d  and  uncivilized  that  I  did 
not  find  it  necessary. 

"  ' I  will  see  you  again  to-morrow, sir,'  I  said,  as  I  nodded 
in  recognition  of  the  liberal  fee  that  my  interesting  patient 
had  given  me,  and  extended  my  hand  to  bid  him  good  morning 
—for  it  was  then  long  past  midnight. 

'"Oh  no,'  replied  Jim  hastily;  'it  will  probably  not  be 
necessary,  and  my  friend  Toppy  here,  who  is  an  exceptionally 
good  nurse,  can  give  me  all  the  attention  I  require.  Be  assured 
sir,  that  you  shall  be  called  again  if  anything  unfavorable 
arises.  There's  something  healing  in  the  California  air. 
The  bullet  is  out,  and  as  I  can  rest  quietly  here  in  Toppy 's 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  417 

cabin,  there  will  be  no  further  trouble,  I  am  sure.  I  have 
been  there  before,  doctor' — and  he  smiled  grimly. 

"  'Very  well,  then,'  I  said,  'if  you  insist  on  assuming-  the 
future  responsibility  of  your  case,  I  suppose  I  have  no  right 
to  protest.  Remember  your  promise,  however,  and  call  me  at 
the  slightest  intimation  of  trouble.  I  will  learn  how  you  are 
from  time  to  time,  through  Toppy,  and  if  I  should  at  any 
time  receive  an  unfavorable  report,  I  might  be  discourteous 
enough  to  call  without  invitation. 

"'I  think  we  understand  each  other,  doctor,'  replied 
Jim,  'and  now  I  believe  I'll  take  a  nap;  sleep  has  been  a 
scarce  commodity  with  me  for  a  few  days  past.' 

"As  I  left  the  cabin,  I  could  not  rid  myself  of  the  impres- 
sion that  there  wras  something  strangely  familiar  about  my 
patient.  My  first  acquaintance  with  him  was  certainly  the 
night  of  the  affair  at  the  Palace  in  San  Francisco,  and  yet,  he 
impressed  me  differently  from  what  might  have  been  expected 
in  meeting  an  entire  stranger.  I  had  an  ill-defined  impres- 
sion that  Jim  had  been  a  factor  in  my  life  before.  But  when, 
and  where?  My  mind  was  a  blank  upon  that  point,  nor  was 
I  likely  to  become  enlightened,  considering  the  lack  of  encour- 
agement with  which  inquiries  into  the  personal  histories  of 
the  early  California  citizen  were  usually  met. 

"  When  we  arrived  at  the  bank  of  the  river  on  our  return 
to  the  town,  Toppy  safely  secured  his  little  boat  to  the  over- 
hanging willows,  and  insisted  on  escorting  me  back  to  the 
hotel.  Although  this  was  unnecessary,  I  was  very  glad  to 
have  the  kind-hearted  fellow's  company,  the  more  especially 
as  I  desired  to  learn  something  of  my  new  and  interesting 
patient. 

"Arriving  at  the  Tuolumne  House,  I  said  — 

"  '  Toppy,  you  have  furnished  me  the  opportunity  of 
losing  my  sleep,  and  I  propose  to  get  even.  It  is  almost  day- 
light, and  we  may  as  well  make  a  full  night  of  it.  I  want  to 
know  more  of  your  friend  Jim.  I  don't  know  why,  but  he 
greatly  interests  me.  Not  but  that  I  am  always  interested  in 
my  patients,  but  my  feeling  toward  your  friend  is  a  rather 
peculiar  one.  Suppose  we  find  a  quiet  seat  somewhere  and 
talk  a  little  about  him?' 


418  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  Toppy  acquiesced,  and  having- •declined  the  cigar  I 
proffered  him,  in  favor  of  a  stubby  old  pipe  that  he  pro- 
duced and  lighted,  we  seated  ourselves  upon  an  old  stump, 
a  little  way  from  the  hotel,  and  he  began  his  story : 

"  'Wall,  Doc,  I  don't  s'pose  et's  ness'ary  fer  me  ter  tell 
y'u  thet  Jim's  my  best  fren'.  He's  ther  best  I  ever  hed, 
since — wall,  since  I  come  frum  ther  States.  I've  got  good 
reasons  fer  likin'  him,  ez  you'll  obsarve. 

"  'I  fust  met  Jim  et  Angel's  Camp,  erbout  three  years 
ergo.  I  wuz  prospectin'  'roun'  thro'  Calaveras  county,  an' 
used  ter  make  my  headquarters  et  Angel's. 

"  'I  used  ter  booze  er  lot  in  them  days — more'n  I  do  now, 
Doc — guess  my  hide  wuz  stretchier  then,  an'  use'  ter  hold 
more.  I  wuz  allus  er  leetle  bit  exciterble  when  I  wuz  drunk, 
an'  everlastin'ly  gittin'  inter  trouble — thet's  how  I  fell  in 
with  Jim. 

"'I  happened  ter  be  raisin'  partickler  h — 1  'roun'  town 
one  night,  an'  drifted  inter  Ned  Griffith's  place.  I'd  bin  thar 
lots  o'  times,  an'  ez  everybody  knowed  me,  an'  I  wuz  purty 
pop'lar,  I  never  hed  no  trouble  till  this  night  I'm  tellin'  ye 
erbout. 

"'Etjest  happened  thet  er  crowd  uv  fellers  hed  come 
down  frum  Murphy's  Camp  ter  hev  er  little  fun  on  the'r  own 
account,  an'et  wuz  jes'  my  d — d  luck  ter  run  agin  ther  gang 
'bout  ther  time  they  wuz  beginnin'  ter  feel  the'r  oats  purty 
lively,  an'  uv  course  I  hed  ter  git  inter  er  muss  with  'em. 

"  '  Ez  I  didn't  hev  no  fren's  in  ther  place  et  ther  time,  an' 
folks  don't  mix  in  other  fellers'  rows  much  in  ther  diggin's,  I 
wuz  buckin'  agin  er  dead  tough  game.  Ez  luck  'd  hev  et,  I 
happened  ter  git  mixed  up  with  ther  toughest  cuss  in  ther 
crowd — Three-fingered  Jack,  er  feller  whut'll  ornyment  er 
tree  yit,  see  ef  he  don't!*  I  got  my  gun  out,  but  ther  d — d 
thing  wuz  outer  fix,  an'  ef  et  hedn't  bin,  I  wuz  too  bilin'  drunk 
ter  hit  er  cow  et  three  paces. 

"''Wall,  Jack  jes'  played  with  me  with  his  bowie,  kinder 
carvin'  me  up  on  th'  installment  plan,  ye  know.  He'd  socked 
er  few  purty  good  sized  holes  inter  my  ole  carkiss,  an'  wuz 
gittin'  ready  ter  finish  up  ther  job  in  good  shape,  when  Jim 

*  And  ornament  the  gallows-tree  he  did,  several  years  later.— AUTHOK. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  419 

come  in  an'  took  er  ban'  in  ther  game  with  his  own   little 
bowie. 

"'I  wuz  too  full  er  booze  ter  'predate  ther  show,  but 


"KINDER  CARVIN'  ME  UP  ON  TH'  INSTALLMENT  PLAN." 


420  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

they  do  say  ez  how  Jim  did  er  purty  neat  job.  Jack  got  well 
arter  er  while,  but  he  didn't  act  very  sosherble  with  ther 
folks  et  Angel's  enny  more. 

"  '  When  I  found  out  how  Jim  bed  saved  my  life,  y'u  kin 
jes'  bet  I  didn't  lose  no  time  erlookin'him  up  an' squarin' my- 
self. I'd  heerd  er  Jim  afore,  an'  I  knowed  he  wuz  er  gambler 
by  perfession,  but  he  played  er  game  thet  night,  thet  made 
er  big  winnin'  fer  yores  trooly,  an'  I've  jes'  bin  layin'  fer  er 
chance  ter  do  him  er  good  turn  ever  since.  He  may  be  er 
gambler,  but  he  plays  er  squar'  game — an'  poker  et  thet — 
thet's  why  they  calls  him  "Poker  Jim."  He's  er  gentleman 
born  an'  bred,  thet's  dead  sart'in,  an'  he's  got  more  eddica- 
tion  an'  squar'ness  than  er  hull  lot  er  people  whut  never 
gambled  in  the'r  lives.  When  Poker  Jim  makes  er  promise, 
et's  kep'.  Ef  he  shud  borrer  er  thousand  dollars  uv  me — an' 
he  could  hevet  too,  ef  /  hed  et,  y'u  bet! — an'  he  should  say, 
"  Lookee  hyar,  Toppy,  I'll  give  this  back  to  yer,  nex'  Monday 
et  five  erclock,  an'  he  wuzn't  on  han'  with  ther  stuff,  w'y, 
then  I'd  know  thet  suthin  hed  happened  ter  him.  Poker 
Jim  '11  keep  enny  promise  thet  he  makes,  ef  he's  erlive  when 
ther  time  fer  squar 'in  things  comes.' 

"'You  have  excellent  reasons  for  your  loyalty  to  your 
friend  Jim,' I  said.  'He  certainly  deserves  your  friendship 
and  respect,  no  matter  what  his  occupation  may  be.  I  have 
met  him  before,  and  under  circumstances  that  proved  him  to 
be  a  truly  noble  character.  But  tell  me,  Toppy,  how  does  it 
happen  that  you  and  Jim  drifted  so  widely  apart?' 

"'Wall,  ye  see,  Doc,  'twuz  this  way.  Ther  folks  up  et 
Angel's  got  so  virtoous  arter  er  while,  thet  gamblers  wuz  too 
rich  fer  'em,  an'  they  ordered  all  ther  gams  ter  vamoose. 
Jim  got  ketched  in  ther  round-up  'long  with  ther  rest,  an' 
hed  ter  git  'twixt  ther  light  uv  two  days.  He  couldn't  lick 
'em  all,  less'n  they'd  come  one  et  er  time,  so  he  jes'  played 
git  up  an'  git  with  t'other  sports.  He  went  ter  'Frisco,  ter 
play  fer  higher  stakes  than  Angel's  Camp  could  put  up,  an'  I 
come  down  hyar.  Ye  see,  I  wuzn't  none  too  pop'lar,  on 
ercount  uv  standin'  up  fer  Jim,  an'  ez  I  don't  gin'rally  fergit 
ter  say  my  say,  I  got  inter  er  little  argyment  with  one  uv  ther 
prom'nent  cit'zens  uv  Angel's  one  day.  I  wuz  sober  on  thet 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  421 

erkasyun,  an' — wall,  I  come  down  ter  Jacksonville  fer  my 
health.  I  writ  ter  Jim  ez  soon  ez  I  got  hyar,  an'  told  him 
whar  I  wuz,  an'  ez  soon  ez  he  got  inter  trouble  he  knowed 
whar  ter  find  er  fren'  whut'll  stan'  by  him  ez  long-  ez  ther's 
er  shot  in  ther  locker — savvy?' 

"  'Well,'  I  said,  'Poker  Jim  will  soon  be  able  to  take  care 
of  himself  again,  and  I  hope  he  will  not  experience  any  an- 
noyance from  his  recent  duelling  experience.  He  certainly 
is  possessed  of  great  courage,  and  I  should  dislike  to  see  his 
bravery  get  him  into  further  trouble.' 

"  '  Y'u  kin  jes'  bet  Jim's  got  sand !  Y'u  air  all  right  on 
thet  pint,  Doc.  Thar  aint  er  braver  man  livin'.  D'ye  know 
whut  I  seed  him  do  one  night  up  ter  Sonora?  Wall,  thar  wuz 
eight  uv  us  fellers  went  up  thar  to  er  fandango,  an'  Jim  went 
erlong  ter  kinder  give  ther  thing  er  little  tone,  ye  know. 

" '  'Mericans  aint  none  too  pop'lar  with  ther  greasers, 
'cept  with  the'r  women  folks,  an'  them  fellers  up  et  Sonora 
wuz  jes'  bilin',  when  they  seed  us  come  inter  the'r  ole  fan- 
dango. When  we  got  ter  cuttin'  'em  out  with  ther  black-eyed 
senoritas,  they  wuz  ugly  'nough  ter  slit  our  throats,  an'etwuz 
jest  our  blind  luck  thet  fin'lly  kep'  'em  frum  doin'et. 

"  'Jim  don't  off'n  drink  enny  licker,  but  he  wuz  feelin' 
purty  good  thet  night,  an'  jes'  spilin'  fer  er  row  with  ther 
d — d  greasers.  Things  wuz  gittin'  too  slow  fer  him,  so  he 
takes  er  piece  o'  chalk,  goes  out  inter  ther  middle  uv  ther  hall 
an'  draws  er  gre't  big  'Merican  eagle  on  ther  floor.  Then  he 
pulled  his  gun  an'  called  for  some  d — d  greaser  ter  step  on 
ther  bird!  We  seed  we  wuz  in  fer  et,  an'  gathered  'round 
him  ready  fer  ther  music  ter  begin.  Each  side  wuz  er  waitin' 
fer  t'other  t'  open  the  ball,  when  ther  feller  whut  run  ther 
hall  hed  ther  lights  blowed  out.  We  grabbed  Jim  an'  hustled 
him  out,  an'  made  him  take  leg  bail  'long  with  ther  rest  uvus. 
He  wanted  ter  go  back,  but  we  wouldn't  hev  et — ther  game 
wuz  jest  er  leetle  too  stiff  fer  us,  y'u  bet!  Oh  yes,  Poker 
Jim  is  dead  game! 

"'An'  now,  Doc,  I'm  goin'  ter  tell  yer  suthin'  on  ther 
dead  quiet.  Jim's  got  er  wife  an'  child  down  in  'Frisco.  He 
married  er  little  Spanish  gal  erbout  two  years  ago,  an'  she 
\vuz  er  bute,  I  kin  tell  ye!  They've  got  er  leetle  baby  'bout 


422  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

er  year  ole,  an'  Jim's  ther  provides'  feller  y'u  ever  seed.  Ez 
soon  ez  thet  'Frisco  scrape  is  throug-h  with,  he's  g-oin'  ter  send 
fer  his  fam'ly,  an'  I'm  g-oin'  ter  quit  my  cabin  an'  let  Jim  an' 
his  folks  hev  et.  My  place  is  kinder  outer  ther  way  an' 
private  like,  an'  thet'll  jes'  suit  Jim.' 

'"Well,  Toppy,'  I  said,  kl  am  more  interested  in  your 
friend  than  ever,  and  I  hope  that  you  may  soon  consummate 
your  plans  to  domicile  him  and  his  family  among-  us.' 

"It  was  now  almost  daylig-ht,  and  the  voice  of  the  devout 
Dave  Smug-g-ins  could  be  heard  ring-ing-  throug-h  the  halls,  and 
vibrating-  the  very  roof  of  the  hotel,  as  he  hoarsely  shouted 
his  pious  appeal  to  the  slumbering-  boarders. 

"Toppy  accompanied  me  to  the  hotel  bar  and  joined  in 
an  'eye-opener,'  after  which  he  bade  me  g-ood  morning- and 
returned  home,  while  I  prepared  to  do  full  justice  to  Keyse's 
immortal  flapjacks." 


"As  Toppy  had  planned,  Poker  Jim  subsequently  be- 
came a  citizen  of  Jacksonville.  Advices  from  San  Francisco 
showed  the  excitement  caused  by  the  duel  to  be  practically 
over  after  a  few  weeks,  and,  his  wound  having-  healed,  my 
patient  quietly  installed  himself  among-  the  sporting-  element 
of  our  population,  resuming-  the  occupation  that  had  earned 
for  him  the  sobriquet  of  '  Poker  Jim.' 

"The  inhabitants  of  Jacksonville  had  often  heard  of  the 
cool,  quiet  gentleman  who  had  called  down  and  cut  up  Three- 
Fing-ered  Jack.  Many  of  his  new  fellow  townsmen  knew  him 
personally.  No  questions  were  asked  therefore,  when  Poker 
Jim  quietly  and  unostentatiously  identified  himself  with  our 
thriving-  town.  Nor  did  our  citizens  become  more  inquisitive, 
when,  a  short  time  afterward,  Jim's  family  arrived  and  took 
possession  of  his  friend's  cabin.  A  few  curious  looks  were 
bestowed  on  Toppy,  when  it  was  learned  that  he  had  g-iven 
up  his  cabin  to  the  g-ambler  and  his  family  and  had  taken  quar- 
ters at  the  Tuolumne  House.  Curiosity  being-  discourag-ed 
in  our  little  burg-,  however,  and  Toppy  being-  inclined  to  keep 
his  own  counsel,  there  was  no  disposition  to  press  matters  to 
the  point  of  disturbing-  his  serenity. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  423 

"  The  same  conservative  tendency  with  which  the  towns- 
people regarded  the  arrangement  between  Toppy  and  his 
friend  Jim,  also  protected  the  family  of  the  latter  from  intru- 
sion. Jim  never  alluded  to  his  domestic  affairs,  and  as  Toppy 
did  all  of  the  necessary  chores  and  errands  for  his  friend's 
family,  the  personnel  of  the  latter  was  entirely  a  matter  of 
speculation. 

"Despite  the  prejudice  which  even  a  mining-  town  enter- 
tains against  the  professional  gambler,  however  leniently  his 
occupation  may  be  regarded,  Poker  Jim  became  very  popular. 
His  squareness  and  undisputed  courage,  associated  with  his 
quiet,  unobtrusive  demeanor  and  the  never-failing  accuracy 
with  which  he  handled  his  revolver,  gained  for  him  an  esteem, 
which,  if  it  was  not  respect,  had  about  the  same  market  value 
as  that  sentimental  commodity. 

"Jim's  field  of  operations  was  necessarily  such  that  I  did 
not  often  come  in  contact  with  him.  I  had  endeavored  to 
cultivate  him  at  first,  but  he  seemed  to  be  decidedly  averse  to 
continuing  my  acquaintance  and  even  appeared  to  avoid  me, 
much  to  my  bewilderment.  I  often  wondered  why  he  should 
have  conducted  himself  so  strangely,  and  also,  why  his  appear- 
ance and  ways  seemed  so  familiar.  I  sometimes  wished  I 
might  have  the  opportunity  of  conversing  with  him,  but  he 
so  persistently  avoided  me  that  I  finally  gave  up  all  hope  of 
ever  learning  more  about  him. 

"Time  passed  quickly  in  Jacksonville,  and  in  the  pres- 
sure of  work  that  was  forced  upon  me  by  numerous  cases 
of  rheumatism  and  other  effects  of  exposure  during  the 
stormy  weather  of  the  winter  season,  I  found  plenty  to 
occupy  my  attention,  hence  I  had  heard  very  little  of  the 
affairs  of  our  people  at  large,  for  some  time.  I  was  there- 
fore quite  surprised  one  evening  to  find  that  my  fellow- 
citizens  were  in  a  state  of  rather  pronounced  excitement,  and, 
incidentally,  greatly  concerned  about  the  moral  status  of  our 
community. 

"  It  seemed  that  a  wave  of  moral  purification  had  been 
gradually  passing  through  the  mining  region  from  one  town 
and  camp  to  another,  and  the  fever  of  moral  reaction  had 
finally  struck  Jacksonville. 


424  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"At  a  more  or  less  informal  meeting1  held  at  the  Tuo- 
lumne  House,  at  which  Tennessee  Dick  presided  with  more 
enthusiasm  than  knowledg-e  of  parliamentary  laws,  it  was 
finally  decided  that  the  gambling  element  of  Jacksonville  was 
a  superfluous  and  dangerous  quantity  in  the  body  social,  and 
must  therefore  be  removed — and  that  quickly.  With  the 
g-ambling  fraternity  there  was  included  in  a  sweepingly  con- 
demnatory resolution,  certain  other  unwholesome  elements 
in  our  primitive  social  system — of  the  feminine  persua- 
sion. 

"It  was  noticeable  that  those  of  our  citizens  whose  losses 
at  the  gaming-  table  were  largest  and  most  recent,  or  whose 
morals  in  another  direction  were  least  worthy  of  commenda- 
tion, were  the  noisiest  champions  of  social  reform.  As  is 
usually  the  case  with  meeting's  where  the  universal  tend- 
ency is  to  pretend  a  virtue  though  one  has  it  not,  the  party  of 
reform— and  noise — carried  the  day. 

"  The  meeting1  was  well-timed,  for  the  only  man  who 
might  have  interposed  an  objection  to  the  sweeping-  tone  of 
the  final  resolution,  was  absent  from  town — Toppy  had  been 
in  Stockton  for  several  weeks.  Poor  fellow!  He  remained 
in  blissful  ignorance  of  the  social  revolution  that  menaced  the 
safety  of  Poker  Jim,  until  long-  after  it  was  too  late  to  defend 
his  friend — in  this  world  at  least. 

"Public  opinion  developed  into  concerted  popular  action 
very  quickly  in  California  mining  towns,  and  by  the  following 
morning,  due  notice  had  been  served  on  every  individual  who 
was  in  any  way  identified  with  the  undesirable  element  of  the 
population,  to  leave  town  within  twenty-four  hours. 

"  Most  of  the  persons  who  were  ordered  to  move  on,  had 
been  in  similar  straits  before,  and  were  constantly  on  the 
gut  vive  of  expectation  of  some  such  emergency.  As  practice 
makes  perfect,  and  delay  is  not  healthful  after  one  has  been 
told  to  leave  a  mining-  town  for  the  good  of  its  morals,  the 
majority  of  the  individuals  who  had  been  warned,  took  time 
by  the  forelock  and  decamped  early.  Indeed,  by  nightfall, 
everybody  who  had  been  g-iven  the  ultimatum  of  the  citizens, 
had  departed — with  one  exception. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  425 

"  It  was  nearly  mid-night  of  the  day  of  the  exodus.  A 
large  party  of  our  citizens  was  congregated  in  the  bar-room 
of  the  Tuolumne  House,  discussing  the  important  event  that 
had  so  effectually  cleared  the  moral  atmosphere  of  our  town. 
The  subtle  essence  of  sanctity  apparently  already  pervaded 
our  social  fabric. 

"Mutual  congratulations  had  been  in  order  for  some  time, 
and  the  resultant  libations  had  considerably  disturbed  the 
equilibrium  of  the  crowd;  each  man,  however,  realized  that  he 
was  a  thoroughly  good  fellow,  and  that  everybody  else  pres- 
ent was  pretty  good.  There  was  not  a  man  in  the  crowd,  who 
did  not  feel  that  he  was  a  modern  Hercules,  jubilating  after 
the  successful  accomplishment  of  a  task  beside  which  his 
ancient  prototype's  experience  as  chambermaid  in  the  Augean 
Stables,  was  but  a  trifling  thing  indeed.  Commingled  with 
the  self-congratulations  of  these  moral  reformers,  were  blo- 
viating remarks  expressive  of  the  awful  things  the  speakers 
would  have  done,  had  not  the  persons  who  had  contaminated 
the  very  air  of  our  moral  little  burg,  opportunely  left  in  good 
season  after  having  received  their  conge. 

"  The  proceedings  of  the  extempore  mutual-admiration- 
society-of-social-purists  were  at  their  height,  and  our  citizens 
were  fast  becoming  inflated  to  the  superlative  degree,  when 
a  step  was  heard  on  the  hotel  porch,  the  door  opened,  and 
there  on  the  threshold,  with  a  smile  of  mocking  gravity  upon 
his  handsome  face,  stood — Poker  Jim! 

"He  had  evidently  been  riding  hard,  for  his  boots  and 
clothing  were  covered  with  the  red  dust  of  the  Tuolumne 
roads,  and  his  long  hair  was  in  a  condition  of  dusty  confusion 
that  was  totally  unlike  his  usual  immaculateness. 

"The  sudden  quiet  that  fell  upon  the  noisy  crowd  was 
something  phenomenal,  and  as  a  disinterested  observer  I  was 
duly  impressed  by  it.  My  fellow  townsmen  were  not  cowards, 
but  they  were  now  face  to  face  with  a  quality  of  bravery  which 
was  more  than  mere  physical  indifference  to  danger.  Poker 
Jim  was  a  man  whose  presence  conveyed  the  impression  of 
great  intellectual  and  moral  power — and  it  was  not  without 
pronounced  effect  upon  those  rude  miners. 


426 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


'"Good  evening-,  gentlemen,'  said  Jim,  blandly,  'I  hope 
I'm  not  intruding-  on  this  scene  of  festivity  and  rejoicing-  '- 
and  he  looked  about  him  somewhat  sarcastically.     'As  you  do 


"THE  DOOR  OPENED,  AND  THERE  STOOD  POKER  JIM." 

not  seem  at  all  disturbed  by  my  presence,'  he  continued,  'I 
conclude  that  my  company  is  at  least  unobjectionable,  and 
with  your  permission  I  will  join  your  little  party,'  and  Jim 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  427 

strode  up  to  the  bar,  his  huge  spurs  clinking-  a  merry  defiance 
as  he  walked. 

"'You  see,  gentlemen,'  he  continued,  'I  have  a  very 
important  engagement,  which  will  temporarily  necessitate 
my  absence  from  town,  and  as  I  start  in  the  morning-,  I 
thought  I  would  drop  in  and  bid  my  fellow  citizens  g-ood  bye. 
It  will  save  you  the  trouble  of  sending-  a  committee  to  see  me 
off — I  prefer  that  you  should  not  give  yourselves  any  trouble 
on  my  account.  Should  you,  however,  appoint  a  committee  to 
escort  me  back  to  town  again,  I  shall  not  object;  indeed,  I 
should  feel  obliged  to  you  if  you  turned  out  en  masse  and 
greeted  me  with  a  brass  band.  And  now,  fellow  townsmen, 
friends,  and  former  patrons,  have  a  parting  drink  with  me. 
I  see  your  hand  but  cannot  call  you.' 

"Whether  it  was  because  liquor  was  just  then  en  regie, 
the  spontaneous  revival  of  Jim's  popularity,  or  his  cool,  sar- 
castic assurance,  is  open  to  question,  but  the  crowd  fell  to 
with  a  will,  and  everybody,  with  one  exception,  drank  with 
him.  For  the  moment  it  seemed  as  though  our  citizens  had 
forgotten  that  Jim  was  under  the  ban. 

"Among  the  party  \vho  had  been  celebrating  the  reform 
movement  of  our  enterprising  town,  was  a  fellow  by  the  name 
of  Jeff  Hosking,  a  comparatively  recent  addition  to  our  popu- 
lation, who  hailed  from  Murphy's  Camp.  Whether  Hos- 
king had  an  old-time  grudge  to  settle  with  Poker  Jim,  no 
one  ever  knew,  but  it  was  afterward  rumored  that  a  feud  of 
long  standing  had  existed  between  them. 

"From  whatever  cause,  however,  the  gentleman  from 
Calaveras  County  remained  conspicuously  apart  from  his 
sociable  companions,  insolently  shaking  his  head  in  refusal  of 
Jim's  proffered  hospitality.  To  accentuate  his  discourtesy 
— for  such  conduct  was  considered  the  acme  of  rudeness  in 
our  little  community — he  smiled  in  a  manner  that  was  an 
unpleasant  combination  of  superciliousness  and  contempt. 

"  The  assembled  company  looked  at  Jeff  in  open-mouthed 
astonishment  for  a  few  seconds,  but  Jim  affected  not  to  notice 
the  implied  insult,  much  to  the  bewilderment  of  the  rest  of 
the  party. 


428  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

'•The  situation  was,  to  say  the  least,  embarrassing-,  and 
Dixie,  with  a  pardonable  desire  to  smooth  thing's  over,  said— 

" '  Wall,  Jeff,  whut's  ther  matter,  hev  y'u  lost  yer  appe- 
tite fer  licker?' 

"  '  No  sirree,  mister  Dixie!'  replied  Hosking,  '  but  I  aint 
drinkin'  with  gamblers  jes'  now,  'specially  them  thet  aint  on 
ther  squar',  an'  some  folks  thet  I  knows  of,  haint  improved 
much  since  they  wuz  chased  outer  Murphy's.' 

"  '  Drink  your  liquor,  gentlemen,'  said  Jim,  quietly,  'and 
then  we  will  investigate  this  very  interesting  affair.' 

"The  liquor  having  been  disposed  of,  Jim  lounged 
leisurely  toward  his  insulter,  looked  him  steadily  in  the  eye 
for  a  moment  and  then  said — 

"  'And  some  people's  manners  have  not  greatly  improved 
since  they  left  Murphy's.  As  for  my  squareness,  that's  a 
matter  for  argument,  but  one  which  you  are  hardly  com- 
petent to  pass  an  opinion  upon,  unless  you  have  changed 
greatly  in  the  last  few  years.  Now,  Mr.  Hosking,  I'm  going 
to  tell  you  something  that  may  interest  you. 

"  'At  nine  o'clock  this  morning,  I  was  notified  to  change 
my  location  within  twenty-four  hours.  I  propose  to  get  away 
from  town  as  quietly  and  pleasantly  as  possible.  Let  me  in- 
form you,  however,  that  until  nine  o'clock  sharp  to-morrow 
morning,  I  am  a  citizen  of  Jacksonville,  and  shall  stand  for 
my  rights  and  self-respect  accordingly.' 

"Emboldened  by  Jim's  apparent  indisposition  to  begin 
a  row,  and,  like  all  bullies,  mistaking  hesitancy  for  cowardice, 
Hosking  replied — 

"  '  Y'u  make  er  mighty  purty  speech,  mister  man,  but 
y'u  aint  on  ther  squar'  jes'  the  same,  an'  I — 

"We  never  knew  what  Hosking  was  going  to  say — his 
mouth  was  slapped  so  quickly  that  his  intentions  became  a 
matter  for  conjecture. 

"It  was  impossible  to  see  exactly  what  happened  next — 
the  two  men  sprang  at  each  other  so  fiercely.  There  was  a 
short,  sharp  struggle,  a  shot  from  Hosking's  revolver,  that 
sped  harmlessly  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd,  lodging  in  the 
wall,  and  Jim,  bowie  in  hand,  was  bounding  toward  the  open 
door,  leaving  his  insulter  lying  upon  the  floor  with  a  clean  cut 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  429 

in  his  chest  through  which  his  life  was  ebbing-  away  as  fast 
as  the  escaping  blood  could  carry  it! 

"As  Jim  ran,  some  one  in  the  crowd  fired  a  shot  after 
him!  Everybody  rushed  to  the  door,  but  Jim  was  in  the 
saddle  and  away,  amid  a  shower  of  pistol  balls,  which,  much 
to  my  relief,  apparently  flew  wild  of  their  mark! 

"I  was  so  interested  in  the  safety  of  the  fugitive  that  I 
forgot  poor  Jeff,  and,  with  a  pang  of  remorse,  I  hastened  back 
to  his  side,  only  to  find  that  Poker  Jim's  work  had  been  too 
skillful  for  any  surgeon  to  undo — the  man  was  dead!" 


"  With  the  killing  of  Hosking,  well  deserved  though  it 
may  have  been,  Poker  Jim's  popularity  was  a  thing  of  the 
past.  While  under  the  ban  of  public  sentiment,  he  had  killed 
a  reputable  citizen  of  Jacksonville  in  a  quarrel — he  was  now 
an  outlaw,  upon  whose  head  a  price  was  set. 

"But  he  was  not  to  be  caught. 

"No  one  supposed  that  Jim  would  be  mad  enough  to  ven- 
ture near  his  cabin,  even  to  see  his  wife  and  child,  yet  the 
citizens  set  a  watch  over  the  place  as  a  matter  of  ordinary 
precaution,  and  for  the  purpose  of  learning  her  destination 
whenever  his  wife  should  undertake  to  follow  and  join  her 
husband.  I,  meanwhile,  saw  that  Jim's  family  wanted  for 
nothing,  a  duty  in  which  the  sentiment  of  the  town  duly  sup- 
ported me,  for,  rude  as  they  were,  our  people  were  tender- 
hearted to  a  fault.  With  uncouth  yet  delicate  discernment, 
the  boys  kept  away  from  the  little  cabin,  hence  no  visitor  but 
mvself  ever  crossed  the  threshold. 

"Toppy's  description  of  Jim's  wife  had  not  been  over- 
drawn— she  was  indeed  beautiful,  and  as  charming  a  woman 
as  I  have  ever  met.  She  was  plucky  too — she  was  apparently 
not  at  all  uneasy  about  her  husband,  and  seemed  to  have  per- 
fect confidence  in  his  ability  to  take  care  of  himself.  The 
child,  a  little  boy,  resembled  his  father,  and  was  such  a  sweet, 
pretty  little  thing  that  I  fell  quite  in  love  with  him.  The  little 
one  in  some  vague  manner  recalled  a  little  curly-headed  boy 
baby  that  I  used  to  tote  about  when  I  was  a  lad,  and  whom  I 
thought  the  cutest  little  brother  that  a  boy  ever  had.  I  re- 
solved that  Jim's  family  should  not  want  a  friend  as  long  as  I 


430  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

could  care  for  them.  Toppy's  loyalty  I  well  knew,  and  I  was 
therefore  sure  of  being"  ably  seconded  on  his  return  from 
Stockton. 

"But  our  towns-people  were  soon  to  have  more  import- 
ant matters  to  think  about,  than  the  capture  of  Poker  Jim." 


"The  latter  part  of  the  winter  of  1860,  and  the  early 
spring1  of  1861,  will  never  be  forgotten  by  the  inhabitants  of 
the  Tuolumne  valley — I  certainly  have  reason  to  remember 
it  as  long-  as  I  may  live. 

"As  I  have  already  intimated,  the  spring-  freshets  of  the 
California  valleys  were  a  matter  of  yearly  experience.  The 
inhabitants  had  become  accustomed  to  them  and  had  usually 
been  able  to  escape  serious  disaster,  but  they  had  not  yet 
realized  what  the  elements  could  do  at  their  worst. 

"The  winter  had  been  a  hard  one,  there  had  been  an 
excessive  rainfall,  and  reports  from  the  mountain  towns 
showred  a  greater  amount  of  snow  than  had  ever  before  been 
experienced  in  that  reg-ion.  When  the  mountain  snows 
beg-an  to  melt  therefore,  and  the  terrific  storms  character- 
istic of  the  breaking-  up  of  the  winter  season  came  on,  a 
volume  of  water  beg-an  pouring-  down  into  the  valleys,  which 
was  as  alarming-  as  it  was  unprecedented. 

"We  had  heard  vag-ue  rumors  of  serious  trouble  in  the 
valleys  of  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquin,  and  as  the  Tuo- 
lumne had  risen  to  a  point  hitherto  unheard  of,  the  oldest 
settlers  became  somewhat  uneasy. 

"Fearing-  lest  the  Tuolumne — which  was  fast  becoming- 
a  rag-ing-  torrent — mig-ht  eventually  become  impassable,  I  saw 
that  '  Mrs.  Jim,'  as  I  used  to  call  her,  was  well  supplied  with 
necessaries.  I  knew  that  the  water  rise  would  be  of  but 
short  duration — for  so  tradition  had  it — hence  I  was  not  un- 
easy about  my  interesting-  charg-es. 

"The  river  had  finally  risen  to  a  point  nearly  two  feet 
beyond  the  hig-hest  water  mark  ever  known;  it  then  beg-an  to 
subside  and  we  felt  much  easier — the  end  was  apparently  in 
sig-ht.  But  we  deceived  ourselves  most  thoroughly. 

"The  people  of  Jacksonville,  congratulating-  themselves 
on  the  beg-inning-  of  the  end  of  the  greatest  freshet  ever 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  431 

known,  retired  one  night  to  sleep  in  fancied  security,  only  to 
be  rudely  awakened  early  the  following-  morning-  by  the 
surg-ing-  of  the  water  of  the  Tuolumne  ag-ainst  the  very  beds 
on  which  they  slept.  The  river  was  seeking-  its  reveng-e — a 
reveng-e  that  was  soon  to  be  fully  accomplished. 

"Within  twenty-four  hours  there  was  but  one  safe  point 
in  the  entire  town — the  hig-h  ground  upon  which  stood  the 
Tuolumne  House.  Practically  every  other  building-  in  town 
was  washed  away.  One  sturdy  miner  upon  whom  fortune 
had  smiled,  had  built  himself  a  pretty  little  cottage,  which  he 
determined  to  save.  He  passed  a  cable  throug-h  a  door  and 
window  at  the  corner  of  the  house,  and  g-uyed  it  to  a  hug-e 
tree  upon  a  hill  opposite.  The  cottag-e  swung-  about  at  the 
end  of  the  rope  until  the  waters  subsided,  when  the  trium- 
phant miner  anchored  it  in  a  new  location,  this  time  on  hig-her 
ground — the  original  site  of  his  home  having-  gently  slipped 
into  the  river.  But  Nelson  was  an  exception;  his  brother 
miners  were  not  so  fortunate. 

"The  hotel  was  overflowing-,  and  tents  were  at  a  pre- 
mium. Mining-  was  a  forg-otten  industry.  The  chief  occu- 
pation of  the  citizens  was  counting-  noses  to  see  who  was 
missing-,  and  fishing-  up  such  articles  of  value  as  they  could, 
from  amid  the  debris  of  the  flood.  For  entertainment,  they 
counted  the  building's  and  studied  the  wreckage  that  the 
waters  brought  down  from  the  towns  and  camps  higher  up 
the  valley.  An  occasional  corpse  was  seen  floating  along 
among  the  flotsam  and  jetsam  carried  past  by  the  raging 
river — a  ghastly  reminder  of  the  seriousness  of  the  situation. 

"Almost  directly  opposite  the  Tuolumne  House  was  a 
dam  in  the  river.  There  were  times  during  the  dry  season 
when  the  Tuolumne  was  so  low  that  one  could  walk  across 
it  via  the  dam.  Now,  however,  it  was  a  small  Niagara.  It 
was  interesting,  as  well  as  harrowing,  to  watch  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  buildings  as  they  toppled  over  the  brink  and  were 
broken  up.  Occasionally  a  house,  larger  than  the  rest,  would 
lodge  at  the  dam  for  some  time  before  going  over.  At  one 
point  quite  a  mass  of  debris  had  collected  and  bade  fair  to 
remain  indefinitely  blocked  up  against  a  projecting  part  of 
the  dam. 


432  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Just  beyond  the  farther  end  of  the  dam  I  could  see 
Toppy's  little  cabin,  gleaming  white  and  clearly  cut  against 
the  dark  green  background  of  the  hillside  whereon  it  stood,  far 
out  of  the  way  of  all  possible  danger  from  the  rising  waters. 

"A  group  of  our  citizens  was  standing  on  safe  ground 
near  the  hotel,  quietly  discussing  the  apparently  hopeless 
misery  and  total  destruction  that  had  befallen  our  industrious 
little  town,  when  our  attention  was  attracted  by  a  house, 
larger  than  any  we  had  yet  seen,  which  came  drifting  rapidly 
down  the  middle  of  the  stream  in  full  view. 

"As  the  house  came  nearer,  Dixie  called  out — 

"  '  By  G — ,  boys !  thar's  a  man  in  ther  winder ! ' 

"And  so  there  was,  and  a  badly  frightened  one  at  that  I 
As  he  came  well  within  sight,  he  could  be  seen  waving  a  gar- 
ment of  some  kind  in  wild  and  emphatic  signals  of  distress. 
His  voice  could  soon  be  heard,  calling  for  assistance  in  a 
series  of  wild  yells  that  would  have  done  credit  to  an  Indian 
war-dance. 

"  There  was  great  excitement  among  my  fellow  citizens 
for  a  few  moments,  and  groans  of  despair  at  our  inability  to 
rescue  the  stranger  were  plentiful,  when  suddenly  some  one 
in  the  crowd  yelled — 

"  'It's  er  d — d  Chinaman,  ez  sure  ez  shootin'! 

"And  so  it  proved  to  be.-- 

"I  trust  that  the  philanthropy  of  my  fellow  townsmen 
will  not  be  underestimated,  if  I  frankly  state  that  an  unmis- 
takable sigh  of  relief  went  up  from  the  crowd  when  it  was 
discovered  that  the  poor  devil  whose  fate  it  had  just  been 
bewailing,  was  a  despised  Mongolian. 

"The  nationality  of  the  hapless  passenger  in  the  floating 
house  and  the  hopelessness  of  an  attempt  at  rescue,  even 
had  our  citizens  been  so  disposed,  served  to  silence  the 
spectators  of  the  Chinaman's  fate.  In  justice  to  my  old 
friends,  I  will  state  that  I  have  never  doubted  that  an  effort 
to  save  the  hapless  Mongolian  would  have  been  made,  had 
any  means  of  rescue  been  at  hand.  Not  a  boat  was  left  in 
town,  and  even  had  there  been  a  hundred  at  our  disposal,  it 
looked  like  certain  death  to  attempt  to  traverse  the  terrific 
torrent  that  confronted  us. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  433 

"The  Chinaman  was  clearly  doomed,  and  the  end  was 
only  a  question  of  minutes,  a  fact  which  the  poor  fellow  him- 
self appreciated  even  more  keenly  than  we  did,  as  was  shown 
by  the  renewed  vigor  of  his  frantic  cries  for  assistance,  as  he 
caught  sight  of  the  dam  that  his  strange  craft  was  so  rapidly 
near  ing-. 

"But,  as  Big1  Brown  was  wont  to  say,  'nobody  hez  sich 
good  luck  ez  er  fool,  'ceptin'  er  d — d  Chinaman.'  The  house 
in  which  the  luckless  voyager  was  making  his  unwilling  and 
terrible  journey,  caught  upon  the  debris  that  had  accumu- 
lated near  the  center  of  the  dam !  Here  it  remained  poised 
for  an  instant,  almost  upon  the  very  verge  of  destruction, 
then  swinging  squarely  about  in  the  swiftly-rushing  current, 
it  lodged  broad-side  to,  in  such  a  manner  that  it  came  to  a  full 
stop  and  remained  motionless. 

"The  unfortunate  Chinaman  now  redoubled  his  pitiful 
cries  for  assistance,  and  the  crowd,  in  silent  awe,  awaited  the 
giving  way  of  the  temporary  obstruction  and  the  inevitable 
destruction  of  the  house  and  its  unhappy  tenant. 

"A  moment  later,  and  a  man  was  seen  to  emerge  from 
some  scrub  pines  near  the  water's  edge  upon  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river,  just  below  Toppy's  cabin.  He  was  drag- 
ging a  small  boat,  that  had  evidently  been  concealed  among 
the  trees. 

"  The  man  pushed  his  little  craft  into  the  swiftly-running 
water,  sprang  in,  and  pulled  boldly  away  from  the  bank!  As 
he  did  so,  he  stood  upright  for  a  moment  and  turned  his 
features  squarely  towards  us.  Even  at  that  distance,  there 
was  no  mistaking  that  magnificent  physique  and  fearless 
bearing! 

"  'It's  Poker  Jim,  by  G — !'  cried  a  number  of  men  simul- 
taneously. Almost  automatically,  several  among  the  crowd 
drew  their  pistols  and  fired  at  the  far-distant  figure — a  use- 
less feat  of  bravery,  as  their  target  was  probably  beyond 
rifle-shot,  to  say  nothing  of  trying  to  hit  a  man  at  that  dis- 
tance with  a  six-shooter. 

"  'Hold  on,  boys!'  cried  Big  Brown,  in  astonishment,  'Ef 
he  aint  goin'  arter  thet  d — d  Chinee  I'll  eat  my  hat!  Wall,  I'll 
be  kerflummuxed!  ef  thet  don't  beat  h — 1!' 


434 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"  Now,  if  there  was  anything-  the  early  settlers  of  the 
diggings  worshipped,  it  was  reckless,  fool-hardy  bravery. 
From  that  moment  Jim  was  a  hero,  a  Bayard,  sans  pciir  ct 

sans  reproche,  before  whose  chiv- 
alry every  man  who  saw  his  cou- 
rageous act  was  ready  to  bow  to 
the  very  earth. 


A    MODERN    BAYARD. 


"The  crowd  silently 
watched  Jim  for  a  moment, 
and  then  broke  out  in  a  cho- 
rus of  'bravos!'  and  hand 
clappings,  which,  although 

they  impressed  the  object  of  their  admiration  not  at  all — 
even  if  he  noticed  them,  which  is  doubtful — expressed  in 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  435 

unmistakable  language  a  change  in  the  sentiment  of  our 
towns-people  toward  him  whom  they  had  so  recently  out- 
lawed. 

"  The  first  burst  of  applause  over  with,  we  watched  the 
hero  in  almost  breathless  anxiety,  as  he  skillfully  directed 
his  little  boat  toward  the  house,  the  Chinaman  meanwhile 
having-  stopped  his  yelling,  in  anticipation  of  the  approach  of 
his  rescuer. 

"Whether  Jim  had  intended  to  bring  up  against  the 
side  of  the  house  that  lay  up-stream,  as  seemed  wisest, 
would  be  difficult  to  say;  if  such  was  his  intention  however, 
he  certainly  miscalculated,  for  his  boat  disappeared  behind 
the  end  of  the  house  which  was  farthest  away  from  us. 

"The  rest  of  the  tragedy  we  could  not  see,  for  we  had 
hardly  lost  sight  of  Jim,  before  the  obstructing  debris  gave 
way  and  the  house  shot  over  the  dam,  sweeping  everything 
before  it! 

"So  died  a  hero! 

"A  searching  party  went  out  a  short  time  afterward, 
and,  at  great  risk,  found  and  secured  the  body  of  Poker  Jim, 
battered  and  bruised,  but  still  classically  handsome  and 
debonair,  even  in  death.  As  the  boys  were  sorrowfully 
returning  to  town  with  the  body  of  the  man  whom  a  few 
hours  before  they  had  tried  to  kill,  they  spied  upon  a  mass  of 
wreckage  that  had  lodged  in  a  partially  submerged  tree-top 
a  few  feet  from  shore,  a  badly  frightened  but  still  yelling 
individual,  at  the  sight  of  whom  Big  Browrn  almost  col- 
lapsed— 

"It  was  the  Chinaman!" 


"Early  the  next  morning,  a  cortege  composed  of  every 
citizen  who  was  able  to  walk,  climbed  slowly  and  sorrowfully 
up  the  road  leading  to  the  little  cemetery,  just  back  of  town. 
At  the  head  of  the  solemn  procession  were  six  stout  miners, 
hat  in  hand,  bearing  upon  a  rude  stretcher  the  body  of  Poker 
Jim.  Just  behind  the  body  another  party  was  carrying  a 
rough  coffin,  composed  of  pieces  of  wreckage,  hastily  thrown 
together. 


436  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"By  no  means  the  least  sorrowful  feature  of  the  funeral 
was  the  fact  that  we  had  no  means  of  communication  with  the 
dead  man's  wife,  nor  did  we  indeed,  even  know  whether  she 
had  witnessed  his  death  or  not. 

"The  cemetery  reached,  and  the  body  having-  been  laid 
in  the  clumsy  coffin  that  was  placed  beside  the  grave  which 
the  kind-hearted  miners  had  already  dug1,  there  was  an  em- 
barrassing pause — 

"I  had  been  asked  to  say  a  few  words,  in  lieu  of  a  clergy- 
man, and  had  agreed  to  do  so,  upon  the  condition  that  some 
one  else  be  selected  to  say  something  in  behalf  of  the  mining 
population  proper.  Dixie  was  the  man  who  was  selected  to 
co-operate  with  me,  but  was  evidently  waiting  for  me  to  give 
him  his  cue,  so  I  opened  the  service  as  well  as  I  could. 

"For  some  unaccountable  reason  I  could  hardly  find  voice 
to  say  a  word.  I  finally,  however,  managed  to  give  a  brief 
eulogy  of  the  dead  man,  revolving  chiefly  around  the  incident 
that  happened  in  the  San  Francisco  gambling-house  on  the 
occasion  when  I  met  Jim  for  the  first  time.  My  remarks 
were  received  with  a  running  fire  of  muttered  eulogies  of  the 
deceased  hero,  which  were  as  sincere  as  they  were  inelegant. 

"  Dixie  now  mustered  up  the  necessary  courage,  mounted 
a  stump  and  began: 

"'Feller  citizens,  we  air  hyar  ter  do  a  solemn  dooty. 
One  uv  our  mos'  prom  'nent  an'  respected  citizens  is  lyin'  hyar 
dead,  an'  we,  ez  his  fren's,  air  hyar  ter  give  him  ergood  send- 
off.  Poker  Jim  hez  passed  in  his  checks;  he  hez  cashed  in 
fer  ther  las'  time,  an'  ther  aint  nobody  hyar  whut'll  say  thet 
his  las'  deal  wuzn't  er  squar'  one.  Sum  mout  say  ez  how  Jim 
wuz  er  d — d  fool,  ter  play  sich  er  dead-open-an'-shet  game, 
with  er  d — d  wuthless  Chinaman  fer  stakes,  but,  my  feller 
citizens,  Jim  cut  ther  cards  on  ther  squar',  an'  he  died  ez 
squar'  ez  enny  man  thet  ever  stepped  in  shoe-leather. 

"  'An'  Jim  died  game,  an'  with'  his  boots  on.  He  wuzn't 
no  white-livered  coyote,  Jim  wuzn't.  Ef  thar  wuz  enny  yaller 
streaks  in  him,  w'y,  nobody  ever  knowed  it.  He  wuz  er  sandy 
man  frum  way  up  ther  creek,  y'u  bet! 

"'I  wisht  we  knowed  whut  Jim's  States'  name  wuz,  but 
thar  aint  nobody  hyar  ter  tell  us,  an'  ez  we  hev  allus  knowed 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  437 

him  ez  Poker  Jim,  w'y,  thet's  ther  name  we'll  bury  him  by. 
It  wuz  good  'nuff  fer  him  livin',  an'  it's  good  'nuff  fer  us,  now 
thet  he's  dead. 

•'  'I  aint  no  speechifier,  ez  y'u  all  know,  an'  Doc,  hyar, 
hez  done  ther  hansum  by  Jim  in  thet  line,  so  I  aint  goin'  ter 
spoil  er  good  thing-,  but  I'm  jes'  goin'  ter  say  one  thing-,  an' 
sayet  plain.  We  all  made  er  mistake  on  ther  deceased.  He 
mout  hev  been  er  gambler — I  don't  say  he  wuzn't — but,  my 
fren's,  Poker  Jim  wuz  er  gentleman,  an'  he  died  like  one, 
d— def  he  didn't!'" 

"  'Within  a  few  days  the  flood  had  subsided  sufficiently 
to  warrant  an  attempt  at  crossing  the  river.  Having  suc- 
ceeded in  procuring  a  large  boat  from  one  of  the  neighboring 
river  towns,  a  party  of  us  went  over  to  Toppy's  cabin  in 
quest  of  Jim's  family. 

"There  had  been  no  sign  of  life  about  the  place  since 
the  day  of  Jim's  death,  hence  I  was  not  surprised  to  find  the 
cabin  empty.  Not  a  trace  of  the  dead  man's  wife  and  child 
could  be  found !  Nor  were  they  ever  heard  of  again.  Whether 
the  poor  little  wroman  had  witnessed  the  disaster  that  made 
her  a  widow,  and  the  raging  Tuolumne  had  received  the  sor- 
rowing, despairing,  desperate  mother  and  her  innocent  child, 
we  never  knew.  I  have  always  entertained  a  vague  hope  that 
Jim  had  already  conveyed  them  to  a  place  of  safety  when  he 
met  his  death. 

"As  our  party  was  searching  about  the  cabin  for  clews 
to  the  disappearance  of  Jim's  family,  Big  Brown  found  upon 
a  shelf  in  the  little  cupboard  where  Toppy's  rather  primitive 
supply  of  dishes  was  kept,  a  letter,  carefully  sealed,  and 
addressed  to  me.  He  handed  me  the  letter,  and  I  fancied 
his  voice  trembled  a  little  as  he  said— 

"  'Wall,  Doc,  Jim  never  fergot  his  fren's.  I  don't  know 
whut  Toppy  '11  say  when  he  gits  back  ter  town.' 

"'Poor  Toppy!'  I  said,  'It  will  grieve  him  sorely,  when 
he  learns  that  the  gallant  Jim  is  gone  forever.' 

"A  few  days  later,  a  white  head-board,  rather  more  pre- 
tentious than  was  the  prevailing  fashion  in  Jacksonville,  wras 


438 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


erected  at  Jim's  grave.  I  was  consulted  regarding  an  epitaph, 
but  could  find  no  fault  with  the  rudely  carved  inscription 
suggested  by  Dixie — 

'HERE  LIES  THE  BODY 

OF 
POKER  JIM— GENTLEMAN.'" 

The  doctor  removed  his  spectacles,  and,  as  he  wiped 
them  upon  his  handkerchief,  I  fancied  that  his  eyes  were 
suspiciously  humid. — 

"But  what  about  the  letter  that  was  found  in  Toppy's 
cabin  ?  "  I  asked.  "It  was,  of  course,  written  by  Poker  Jim. — 
Did  he  reveal  his  real  name?" 

"My  boy,  "said  the  doctor  softly,  "the  letter  was  signed, 
'James  Weymouth.' ' 

"Then  Poker  Jim  was—?" 

"Little  Jim!" 


"  Well,  young  man,  examination  time  is  approaching,  and 
it  will  not  do  to  keep  you  from  your  much  needed  rest  in  this 
outrageous  fashion. 

"Good  night,  lad,  good  night." 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER. 


I. 


H,  brother  of  the  lamp  and  pen— 
Thou  who   canst    not   say   of 

fame,  "Tis  won!" 
True  happiness  is  ever  thine, 

and  when 

Thy  work   before  thee  lies- 
well  done, 
What   more,   oh    faithful    one, 

couldst  ask  the  world 
To  do  for  thee,  than  leave  to 

read  thine  own  ? 
Thy  creations  to  thine  eye  unfurled 
Are  fair,  tho'  hard  and  cold  as  heartless  stone, 
The  critic — with  lip  all  sneering  curled 
In  proud  and  calm  disdain  of  thee,  oh  slave ! 
Hell  hear  thee  not,  till  thou  art  in  thy  grave ! 
So,  brother,  read  thine  own,  and  laugh,  and  joke, 
And  veil  ambition  in  this  fragrant  smoke. 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER, 


'HEN  I  arrived  at  Doctor 
Wey mouth's  house,  he 
was  at  dinner.  He  had  been 
detained  quite  late  by  his 
calls,  and,  as  he  expressed  it, 
was  now  assiduously  attend- 
ing- to  his  most  exacting-  pa- 
tient, his  stomach.  Pete  announced 
my  arrival,  and  returned  with  the 
message  that  his  master  wished  to 
see  me  in  the  dining-room.  I  found  the  doctor  eating1  his 
repast  in  solitude. 

"Ah!  good  evening,  sir,"  he  said,  "I  am  more  than  glad 
to  see  you.  Mrs.  Weymouth  went  to  a  ladies'  reception  this 
afternoon  and  has  not  yet  returned,  consequently,  I  was 
beginning  to  be  a  bit  lonesome.  Will  you  not  join  me? — I 
have  but  just  commenced  my  dinner." 

"I  thank  you,  doctor,"  I  replied,  "  but  I  have  just  arisen 
from  the  table  myself,  and  could  not  possibly  do  your 
hospitable  board  full  justice." 

"Oh, well,"  said  the  doctor,  "you  will  at  least  partake  of 
a  cup  of  coffee — there's  always  room  for  that,  you  know. 
Besides,  I  want  you  to  keep  me  company  for  my  digestion's 
sake.  And,  by  the  way,  I  haven't  had  time  to  glance  at  the 
evening  paper  yet — would  you  mind  looking  it  over  and  read- 
ing anything  that  seems  interesting?" 

"  Why,  I  should  be  glad  to  do  so,  sir,"  I  replied. 
After. scanning  the  headlines  for  a  moment,!  turned  to 
the  editorial  page  and  said,  "  Well,  doctor,  I  don't  see  much 


444  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

in  the  news  columns  that  I  would  consider  interesting-,  but 
here  are  several  editorials  which  seem  rather  suggestive." 

"Ah,  indeed!"  said  my  friend.      "Pray  read  them." 

I  then  began  reading  an  article  on  the  suicide  problem,  in 
which  the  suicide  was  stigmatized  in  unmeasured  terms  as  a 
coward.  Doctor  Wey mouth  interrupted  me  with  — 

"That  is  enough  of  that,  my  boy.  The  editor  is  singing 
the  same  old  song  upon  a  subject  he  knows  very  little  about. 
I  presume  there  are  some  persons  who  commit  suicide  be- 
cause they  had  rather  face  future  unknown  terrors  than  the 
tangible  and  more  realistic  horrors  of  the  present.  Perhaps 
such  persons  are  cowards,  but  I  cannot  see  it,  for,  after  all, 
they  simply  choose  between  two  evils,  to  face  either  of  which 
requires  bravery.  Again,  admitting  that  many  suicides  are 
cowards,  they  are  not  all  of  the  unfortunates,  for  among 
them  will  be  found  lunatics,  fools,  heroes  and — philosophers. 
You  smile  at  the  word  'philosophers,'  but  history  bears  me 
out. 

"  There  is  a  serious  question  in  my  mind,  as  to  whether 
some  cases  of  suicide  are  not  manifestations  of  individual  and 
personal  right  that  are  perfectly  just,  fair  and  logical.  I  pro- 
test against  any  law,  civil  or  religious,  that  says  to  the  incur- 
able sufferer  whose  agonies  are  not  to  be  alleviated  by  human 
skill,  '  Thou  shalt  not  go  out,  and  if  thou  dost,  thou  shalt  be 
forever  damned.'  We  are  not  very  kind  to  incurable,  suffer- 
ing humanity — shall  it  not  be  kind  to  itself  if  it  so  elects? — 
Shall  it  not  have  the  privilege  of  choosing  the  lesser  evil? 
— Shall  man  not  say,  when  in  hopeless  agony,  'I  can  and  will 
sleep?' — Did  not  Epictetus — wise  old  philosopher — say,  'The 
door  is  open?' — And  who  shall  gainsay  our  individual  right 
to  pass  out?" 

"  Well,  my  dear  doctor,  I  confess  that  I  have  never  looked 
at  it  in  that  way,  you  know  the  divine  command  was— 

"  Pish  !  tush  !  There  you  go,  in  the  same  old  rut!  The 
scriptures  contain  many  so-called  '  divine  commands '  that 
everybody  knows  were  cruel  and  which  are  very  much  out  of 
date.  Is  it  not  possible  that  our  views  of  the  suicide  question 
also  require  modification?  Why,  it  is  really  a  pity  that  there 
could  not  be  a  public  chloroforming  committee,  to  relieve  some 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  445 

people  of  their  agonies.  Wait,  my  lad,  until  you  have  seen  as 
much  human  suffering-  as  I  have,  and  you  will  realize  that  we 
are  kinder  to  the  brute  creation  than  to  humanity. 

"But  what  of  the  suicide  clubs?"  I  asked. 

"Pah!  Such  people  make  me  sick!"  said  the  doctor, 
contemptuously.  "The  idiots  who  constitute  their  member- 
ship ought  to  be  put  in  the  care  of  some  asylum  for  the 
feeble-minded." 

"An  absurd  feature  of  such  editorials  as  the  one  you 
have  just  read,"  continued  the  doctor,  "is  the  fact  that  the 
newspapers  themselves  are  responsible  for  a  large  propor- 
tion of  suicides.  Certain  individuals  receive  the  suggestion 
that  impels  them  to  the  act,  and  learn  various  methods  of  its 
performance,  by  reading  the  blood-curdling,  sensational  ac- 
counts of  suicides  in  the  daily  press.  The  same  is  true  of 
various  forms  of  vice  and  crime.  Of  course,  the  public  is 
ultimately  responsible,  for  the  newspapers  are  in  duty  bound 
to  give  it  what  it  demands." 

"Hallo!"  I  said,  "here  is  a  comment  on  that  bungling 
execution  that  occurred  in  St.  Louis  the  other  day." 

"Read  it,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Just  as  I  thought,"  said  he,  when  I  had  finished.  "The 
editor  grows  maudlin  over  the  bungle  that  was  made,  but 
says  not  one  word  against  the  system.  Just  think  of  it,  boy— 
that  man  was  fumbled  about  for  over  forty  minutes,  before 
they  succeeded  in  getting  the  old  noose  off  and  a  new  one  on! 
Forty  minutes  of  agony — and  then  the  legalized  thugs  strung 
their  victim  up  again!  Ye  gods!  And  this  is  the  end  of  the 
nineteenth  century!  Must  we  always  follow  the  Mosaic  law? 
If  we  must,  for  heaven's  sake  let's  do  it  under  chloroform ! 

"Why  do  I  object  to  capital  punishment?  Well,  sir, 
even  when  properly  performed,  it  is  a  relic  of  barbarism — it 
is  a  blot  upon  modern  civilization.  It  necessitates  the  taking 
of  human  life  by  somebody,  and  whether  this  be  done  legally 
or  not,  it  is  enough  to  horrify  intelligent  humanity.  It  bru- 
talizes society,  and  lessens,  rather  than  increases,  respect 
for  human  life.  It  has  been  a  signal  failure  as  a  deterrent  of 
crime — as  have  all  methods  of  'punishment.'  This  is  shown 
by  the  fact  that  crime  is  alarmingly  on  the  increase.  The 


446  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

proportion  of  murders  has  not  decreased  in  social  systems 
in  which  capital  punishment  prevails,  nor  has  it  increased 
where  executions  have  been  abolished;  on  the  contrary,  the 
latter  have  made  a  very  favorable  showing-.  Last,  but  not 
least,  capital  punishment  does  not  punish — it  is  followed  by 
forgetfulness,  especially  by  the  one  who  is  supposed  to  be 
most  impressed  by  it. 

"  The  best  criticism  that  was  ever  passed  on  capital  pun- 
ishment, was  fathered  by  my  friend,  Opie  Read,  in  his  'Arkan- 
sas Hang-ing-.'  The  darky  who  described  the  execution  said 
— 'Dey  done  led  dat  man  up  dar  on  dat  natform,  dey  did,  jes' 
like  he  wuz  some  po'  ole  dawg,  dat  dey  wuz  g-wine  fo'  ter  kill 
cayse  he  done  got  too  ole.  An'  den  Marse  Sheriff  done  read 
er  g-re't  long-  paper  ter  dat  man!  Now,  Marse  John,  whut  de 
debb'l  did  dey  want  ter  read  dat  paper  ter  dat  man  fo'?  W'y, 
sah,  dey  g-wine  kill  dat  man — he  wouldn't  know  nuffin  'bout 
dat  termorrer ! ' 

"Was  not  that  the  light  of  a  simple-minded  philosophy 
thrown  on  a  dark  subject?  That  poor  negro,  like  some 
children,  was  more  philosophical  than  his  betters.  Well,  it 
will  not  do  at  present  to  go  any  farther  into  that  particular 
phase  of  a  subject  which  has  been  of  life-long-  interest  to 
me.— 

"Speaking-  of  the  crime  question  in  g-eneral,  there  is  one 
fact  you  must  not  overlook:  Society  makes  its  own  criminals; 
they  are  the  refuse  of  the  social  body.  Society  takes 
illogical  methods  for  correcting-  its  evil  works,  however. 
What  chance  does  the  waif  of  the  streets  have  to  become  a 
respectable  citizen?  None,  sir,  none!  You  look  skeptical, 
my  lad — I  suppose  you  think  me  a  crank,  to  thus  criticise  our 
social  system. 

"  My  self-complacent  young-  friend,  did  you  ever  explore 
our  American  London — New  York  City?  Do  you  know  any- 
thing- from  personal  observation  of  'Darkest  America,'  as  it 
exists  in  all  our  large  cities? — I  take  it  for  granted  that  you 
will  answer  in  the  negative,  and  without  further  parley  will 
proceed  to  act  as  your  guide,  and,  mentally  at  least,  depict  for 
you  a  scene  that  comes  back  to  me,  all  too  vividly,  as  I  saw  it 
one  summer  night  many  years  ago. — 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


447 


A    TASK    FOR    THE    MEMORY. 


448  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"We  take  a  Battery-bound  car,  and  leaving-  the  brilliantly 
lighted  thoroughfares  and  palatial  mansions  of  upper-tendom 
far  behind  us,  we  roll  along-  into  '  Old  New  York.'  We  finally 
alight  in  a  portion  of  '  Lower  New  York '  to  which,  out  of 
respect  to  the  mathematical  genius  of  the  old  Knickerbockers 
who  platted  it,  is  applied  the  euphonious  sobriquet  of  '  Tangle- 
town.'  Turning  due  east,  or  attempting  to  do  so  as  nearly  as 
maybe,  we  thread  the  bewildering  maze  of  gloomy  streets 
until  we  are  in  the  midst  of  a  district  known  by  the  still  more 
graceful  and  characteristic  title  of  'Hell-town.'  Here,  the 
haunts  of  depravity  and  disease  are  found  in  their  highest 
state  of  cultivation — here  is  the  soil  in  which  the  g-ardeners 
of  vice  force  to  quick  and  full  development  the  upas  trees  of 
immorality,  disease  and  crime. 

"We  turn  into  a  narrow  thoroughfare  that  seems 
livelier  and  more  brilliantly  lighted  than  its  fellows.  It  is 
hardly  a  lane;  it  is  certainly  a  burlesque  on  a  street,  and 
would  disparag-e  the  fair  fame  of  an  alley.  If  Whitechapel 
has  worse  thoroug-h fares,  it  needed  no  Jack  the  Ripper  to 
make  it  notorious.  Murder  most  foul  could  scarcely  accentu- 
ate its  malodorous  qualities. 

"Look  at  the  character  of  the  buildings — low,  tumble- 
down and  dilapidated,  most  of  them,  yet  they  rent  well,  and 
in  some  instances  bring  in  a  princely  revenue  to  their  not 
over-scrupulous  owners — who,  be  it  remarked,  dwell  in  more 
fashionable  localities. 

"On  the  first  floor  of  the  one  on  the  right,  is  a  cheap 
grocery  with  a  bar  in  the  rear,  where  liquid  murder,  concen- 
trated insanity  and  the  quintessence  of  crime  and  disease  are 
retailed  at  prices  that  would  bankrupt  a  dealer  in  fusel  oil. 
This  description  will  fit  half  the  buildings  on  the  street. 
Every  other  rum-shop  is  a  cheap  variety  and  dance  hall,  from 
which  a  flood  of  discordant  and  harshly  vibrating  '  music  '- 
save  the  mark — is  ever  pouring-  forth  and  mingling  with  the 
ruder  yet  more  tolerable  sounds  of  the  streets.  Now  and 
again  a  bloated,  bleary  and  besotted  wretch — male  or  female, 
stag-gers  forth  from  these  dens  of  vice,  and  is  lost  to  view 
among  the  motley  denizens  of  the  quarter,  who  have  crowded 
upon  the  street  this  warm  summer  evening,  in  the  delusive 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  449- 

hope  of  getting"  a  breath  of  air — something  that  is  denied 
them  in  the  miserable  tenements  of  iniquity  I  have  described. 

"How  they  swarm,  and  how  dirty  they  are!  Look  at 
the  faces  in  that  group  at  the  corner  of  the  alley! — Stay,  one 
of  the  worst  of  the  lot  is  approaching  us !  Not  a  comforting- 
observation,  truly. — Just  as  we  are  considering  the  advisa- 
bility of  giving  'leg  bail,'  the  tough  calls  out,  'Hello,  Doc!' 
As  I  gaze  at  him,  bewildered,  he  says—'  Don't  ye  remember 
Bill  Harper,  who  was  doin'  time  at  the  Island  and  was  orderly 
in  the  hospital?'  The  recognition  of  a  grateful  patient — 
chiefly  found  in  prisons,  by  the  way,  and  rarely  seen  running 
at  large  or  in  great  numbers — makes  me  feel  much  better. 
In  fact,  I  have  rarely  been  more  pleased  at  finding  a  friend  in 
need.  To  my  great  satisfaction,  Bill  offers  to  help  us  '  do 
the  street,'  and,  under  his  guidance  and  protection — for  he 
seems  to  be  a  king  in  this  environment — we  not  only  do  the 
street,  but  see  more  of  the  slums  than  wre  might  have  seen  in 
all  our  natural  lives  under  any  other  leadership. 

"'It's  better  to  go  with  me,'  he  said,  'there's  nary  a 
copper  down  here;  they  say  there's  chills  and  fever  here- 
abouts, and  I  reckon  it  is  unhealthy — for  coppers.' 

"And  what  sights  we  see! — Dirty,  unkempt  and  brutal 
masculinity — slatternly  women,  with  here  and  there  a  pitiful 
attempt  at  finery  and  gewgaws,  that  herald  all  too  plainly  the 
calling  of  the  wearer,  though  a  sign  is  unnecessary  where 
open  solicitation  is  fashionable. 

"  Sitting  on  the  curbstone,  or  playing  about  in  the  gutters, 
are  filthy  children,  looking  more  like  gnomes  of  the  hills  than 
infants — if,  indeed,  filth  and  squalor  can  be  so  picturesque. 
The  sight  of  these  woe-begone  little  creatures,  toddling, 
swearing  and  fighting  about  among  the  feet  of  their  dis- 
reputable elders — these  children  of  all  ages,  both  sexes,  and 
varying  degrees  of  misery,  is  a  lesson  that  moralistic  cranks 
and  alleged  reformers  might  do  well  to  study.  Dirty,  vile,  and 
prematurely  aged,  exposed  to  both  the  contagion  and  example 
of  immorality,  these  children  may  well  be  pitied.  Some  one 
has  said  that  the  children  of  the  very  poor  and  miserable  are 
never  young — that  they  are  born  old — lo!  also,  such  as  these 
are  never  innocent. — 


450 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"How  the  denizens  of  this  hell-hole  reek,  and  swarm,  and 
how  vile  they  are!  Look  at  the  faces  of  that  group  on  yonder 
corner! — Is  it  necessary  to  call  attention  to  the  moral  turpi- 
tude and  brutish  cunning-  depicted  in  those  faces? — If  facial 
expression  goes  for  anything-,  robbery  is  a  duty,  and  murder 
a  pastime  with  these  people— whenever  the  hope  of  reward  is 


WHERE  "THE  CHILDREN  OF  ISHMAEL  "  ARE  BRED. 


in  any  degree  commensurate  with  the  dang-er  incurred.  What 
wonder,  for  is  not  this  district  a  breeder  of,  and  a  school  for 
criminals,  both  in  one? 

"Here  and  there,  along-  the  lane  of  abominations,  the 
g-ilded  balls  of  the  pawn  shop  indicate  the  '  fence  ' — a  sine  qua 
non  in  this  locality.  Passing-  in  and  out  of  these  accessories 
of  crime  may  be  seen  a  few  poor  devils  who  are  bartering-  for 
the  price  of  a  g-ill  or.  two  of  rum,  the  spoils  they  have  risked 
their  lives  and  liberty  to  obtain. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  451 

"Standing-  out  in  bold  relief  from  the  sombre  shade  of 
the  adjoining-  building's,  may  be  seen  several  more  pretentious 
structures,  painted  in  a  sarcastic  symphony  of  white,  with 
those  everlasting-  green  blinds — so  peculiarly  and  suggest- 
ively  ajar.  Alas!  for  the  wrong's  of  white  paint!  Their 
cleanly  exterior  is  no  criterion  of  their  tenants,  for  here 
dwell  the  lowest  grade  of  the  unclean  harpies  of  the  great 
metropolis.  Poor  unfortunate  breeders  of  disease  and  vice! 
Who  shall  judge  thee?  As  Booth  so  appropriately  says — 
'How  many  there  are,  who  would  have  been  very  different 
had  their  surrounding's  been  otherwise.' 

"  Charles  Kingsley  puts  this  very  bluntly  when  he  makes 
the  Poacher's  widow  say,  in  addressing-  the  Bad  'Squire — 
who  drew  back — 

"  '  Our  daug-hters,  with  base-born  babies,  have  wandered 
away  in  their  shame — 

"'If  your  misses  had  slept,  'Squire,  where  ours  did, 
they  might  have  done  the  same.' 

"  Placed  in  the  same  or  similar  circumstances,  how  many 
of  us  would  have  turned  out  better  than  this  poor,  lapsed, 
sunken  multitude? 

"  Here  is  the  key-note  to  the  situation  :  Criminals  and 
moral  lepers  are  born  in  this  atmosphere  of  moral  and  physi- 
cal rottenness.  Here  are  bred  moral  and  physical  typhus, 
here  arises  the  social  miasm,  the  poisonous  effluvium  that 
taints  both  blood  and  morals. 

"Not  very  alarming  is  this  atmosphere,  however,  to  yon 
crowd  of  maudlin  sailors.  Yet,  even  they  recognize  its 
physical  dangers,  for  how  many  times  does  the  solitary  sailor 
come  ashore  for  a  'lark,'  and  never  again  answer  the  boat- 
swain's pipe  at  muster  call.  They  know  full  well  the  safety 
of  larking  in  squads — in  this  locality  at  least. 

"  Here  is  the  fountain-head  of  the  river  of  crime  and  vice. 
Here  is  the  source  of  that  slimy  ooze  that  the  preacher  and 
moralist  rarely  penetrates.  Here  is  the  field  in  which  Gen. 
Booth,  the  erstwhile  'crank, 'has  made  himself  undying  fame 
as  a  philosophical  moralist,  to  the  everlasting  shame  of  some 
of  the  fashionable  temples  of  our  grand  avenues. 


452  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  Misery,  poverty,  idleness,  drunkenness  and  disease — 
these  are  the  grandly  offensive  pillars  that  support  and  make 
necessary  our  reformatory  system,  yet  receive  no  attention 
from  it. 

"Is  punishment  the  remedy  for  these  thing's?  Has 
society  the  right  to  permit  the  existence  of  such  a  social 
cesspool,  and  tax  honest  and  industrious  people  to  stamp  out 
its  results?  Ah,  me!  What  of  the  logic  and  philosophy  of 
those  who  believe  that  such  conditions  are  to  be  combatted 
by  stamping-  out  their  effects?  This  is  treating-  the  sick 
man  for  his  fever  but  forg-etting-  to  wash  out  some  infecting- 
sore,  which,  thoug-h  covered  from  sig-ht,  ever  breeds  a  new 
and  varied  supply  of  putrescence  to  poison  his  blood. 

"In  spite  of  all  the  well-meant  but  misdirected  efforts  of 
the  churches,  and  the  blatant  pretensions  of  a  certain  class  of 
noisy  'reformers,'  there  is  a  constant  and  endless  stream 
of  thieves,  murderers,  drunkards,  prostitutes,  beg-g-ars, 
lunatics  and  hospital  patients,  issuing-  from  such  recruiting- 
stations  as  Hell  Town.  And  there  are  many  of  these  holes 
of  disease  and  vice.  Hell  Town  is  but  a  type  of  what  may  be 
found  in  every  great  metropolis.  And  in  the  land  of  the  great 
unknowable,  the  spiritual  and  moralistic  quack  shall  see  an 
endless  procession  of  miserable  and  hollow-eved  wraiths, 
pointing-  toward  him  with  accusing-  and  g-hastly  fing-ers  and 
saying-:  'Thou  couldst  not  cure  our  souls,  because  thou  hadst 
forg-otten  our  bodies.  Shame  upon  thee,  thou  canting-  hypo- 
crite, thou  imbecile  in  philosophy,  thou  child  in  logic ! — And 
the  curse  of  our  children  and  of  our  children's  children  be 
upon  thee  and  thine  forever!' 

"But  the  hour  is  late,  so  we  bid  g-ood-bye  to  our  ex- 
convict  g-uide,  and  wend  our  weary  way  homeward. 

"And  now,  my  young-  friend,  what  think  you  of  preach- 
ing- as  a  cure  for  the  conditions  you  have  seen? 

"And  what  of  the  remedies  for  the  sick  man — society? 

"  Clean  the  locality,  clean  the  people,  educate  the  children, 
and  prevent  criminals  from  intermarrying-  and  breeding-  moral 
imbeciles  and  physical  wrecks.  —  More  soap  and  water  and 
fewer  tracts. — Give  those  who  would  work,  an  incentive  and 
opportunity  for  honest  labor. — Improve  the  bodies  of  the 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


453 


criminal  stock  by  beginning-  with  the  child. — Give  him  healthy 
parents,  if  you  can,  to  begin  with. — Do  all  these  things,  and 
then — well,  preach  to  him  if  you  must — he  may  now  be  able 
to  understand  you. 

"Why  cannot  some  of  our  mil- 
lionaires spend  a  little  of  their 
wealth  in  damming  the  flood 
of  criminality?   With  all  due 


"THOU    HADST    FORGOTTEN    OUR    BODIES," 

respect  for  the  magnificent  universities  that  some  of  them 
have  endowed,  they  might  do  humanity  at  large,  much  more 
good  in  the  manner  I  suggest.  We  have  millions  for  foreign 
missions,  millions  for  sectarian  universities,  millions  for 


454  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

armies,  millions  for  churches,  millions  for  prisons  and  law 
machinery,  but  nothing-  to  save  the  waifs  of  the  land — 
nothing-  to  save  the  criminal  from  himself." 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  to  dig-ress  somewhat,  here  is  an  account 
of  one  millionaire  who  knew  how  to  use  his  money.  He  g-ave 
his  physician  an  annuity,  and  at  one  time  a  fee  of  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  When  he  died,  he  left  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  to 
the  doctor,  a  cool  half  million  to  found  a  medical  school,  and — 

"Great  Scott!  boy,"  exclaimed  Doctor  Wey mouth,  ex- 
citedly, "let  me  see  that  paper!" 

I  handed  the  paper  to  him,  and  after  reading-  it  eag-erly 
for  a  moment,  he  said,  disg-ustedly— 

"Of  course,  it  had  to  be  a  man  who  was  never  heard  of, 
and  who  lived  in  a  town  that  was  never  on  the  map!  That's 
the  way  it  always  is.  But  then,  newspapers  must  live,  and 
startling- novelties  are  necessary,  even  thoug-h  they  be  '  faked,' 
as  they  say  in  press  parlance." 

"But  I  mustn't  talk  on  irritating-  subjects  to-nig-ht.  Let 
us  repair  to  the  library.  I  am  in  a  reminiscent  frame  of 
mind,  and  the  soothing-  fumes  of  the  hookah  will  probably 
bring-  before  me  more  interesting-  experiences  than  those  we 
have  been  considering-  thus  far  this  evening-." 


"  Well,  sir,  are  you  in  a  mood  for  one  of  my  long--winded 
yarns  ? 

"Very  well,  then,  you  mustn't  cry  peccavi  if  the  story 
drag's  a  bit.  I'm  g-oing-  to  give  you  a  character  sketch,  and  I 
never  let  g-o  of  a  character  till  he's  dead  and  buried — the  true 
professional  instinct,  you  know.  To  carry  the  professional 
analogy  to  a  point  where  a  medical  student  can  appreciate  it, 
I  will  dig-  my  character  up — for  he  is  really  dead- — and  use 
him  as  the  subject  for  a  narrative.  The  subject,  in  this 
instance,  must  be  drag-g-ed  from  his  musty  pig-eon-hole  in  the 
archives  of  my  early  professional  career  in  the  wild  and 
woolly  west." 

"It  was  early  in  the  'sixties,'  while  practicing-  in  the 
town  of  E ,  in  the  mountainous  mining-  reg-ions  of  Cali- 
fornia, that  I  first  met  the  hero  of  this  sketch.  I  had  drifted 
into  that  part  of  the  state  just  after  the  war  of  the  Rebellion 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


455 


broke  out,  having1  left  the  lower  country  as  soon  after  my 
brother's  death  as  I  could  make  the  necessary  arrangements. 
There  being-  nothing-  to  attract  me  to  '  the  States '  and  the 
little  mining-  town  of  Jacksonville  having-  become  absolutely 
unendurable  to  me,  I  resolved  to  go  to  some  part  of  the 
country  that  civilization  had  not  yet  demoralized  into  that 
peculiar  condition  so  characteristic  of  frontier  towns,  in  their 

early  strug- 
g-les  to  be- 
come centers 
of  culture 
and  refine- 
m  e  n  t.  As 
you  may  per- 
ceive, I  still 
love  the  wild, 
adventurous 
and  uncon- 
vent  i  onal 
freedom  of 
the  mining- 
camps.  I  not 
onlylikedthe 
peculiar  en- 
vironment 
afforded  by 
those  roug-h- 
and-r  eady 
settlements, 
but  I  loved 
the  people, 
with  their 

devil-may-care,  here-to-day  and  there- to-morrow  spirit,  their 
brawny-handed,  honest  industry  and  hair-trig-g-ered  ethics. 
The  polish  and  refinement  of  civilization  are  often  developed 
at  the  expense  of  manliness  and  rug-g-ed  honesty.  The  roug-h 
miners  whom  I  knewr  in  the  early  days  of  my  professional 
life,  were  as  loyal  as  they  were  unpretentious,  and  my 
thoughts  revert  to  them  with  the  kindliest  feeling. 


456  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"I  do  not  know  why  I  happened  to  select  the  town  of 

E for  my  new  location,  but  I  presume  that  it  was  because 

the  place  seemed  to  be  more  nearly  my  ideal  of  primitive  life 
than  any  other  part  of  California.  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  found 
myself  one  fine  day,  with  what  few  books,  instruments, 
surgical  dressing's  and  drug's  I  could  get  together,  snugly 
quartered  in  a  pine  shanty  near  the  'postoffice'  of  E . 

"I  can  assure  you  that  my  stock  of  drugs  was  never  very 
large,  but  I  afterwards  concluded  that  it  was  love's  labor  lost 

to  bring-  them  to  E .  I  don't  believe  I  could  have  used 

a  half  pound  of  quinine  or  a  gross  of  compound  cathartic  pills 
in  that  town  in  a  decade.  In  justice  to  my  discriminative 
faculties  as  exhibited  in  the  selection  of  a  location,  however, 
it  is  only  fair  to  state,  that  while  I  was  long  on  drug's  I  was 
continually  short  on  surgical  dressing's.  Whenever  I  think 
of  my  experience  in  that  little  town,  I  feel  quite  superior  to 
most  of  the  army  surgeons  whom  I  have  met.  I  had  a  larger 
variety  of  cases  of — asking-  the  pardon  of  my  old  neighbors 
and  patrons — lead  poisoning  in  the  concrete,  than  have  been 
recorded  in  the  surgical  history  of  the  war. 

"As  you  might  imagine,  I  met  with  many  quaint  and 
interesting  characters,  during  my  experience  in  that  little 
mountain  town.  Some  of  them  wrere  sui generis,  but  the  most 
unique  individual  of  all — and  indeed,  the  most  unique  I  have 
ever  met — was  Major  Merriwether. 

"I  first  became  acquainted  with  the  Major  in  the  bar- 
room of  the  '  Miner's  Rest,'  a  ramshackle  of  a  hotel,  but  the 
best  and  only  hostelry  in  the  place. 

"I  had  received  a  'hurry-up'  call  from  the  hotel,  to  attend 
a  young  '  greaser '  from  the  lower  country,  who  had  drifted 
into  town  with  a  skin-full  of  'aguardiente,'  and  who,  with 
singular  lack  of  discrimination,  had  run  against  one  Jerry 
Mapleson — otherwise  and  more  familiarly  known  as  'Mapes. ' 

"  Jerry  was  the  best  operator  in  his  line  that  I  ever  knew, 
and  having  his  lancet — bowie  pattern — handy,  proceeded  to 
evacuate  some  of  the  bad  blood  and  worse  whisky  with  which 
the  greaser's  hide  was  distended. 

"The  operation  was  hardly  up  to  Jerry's  best — for  he 
was  the  most  distinguished  rival  I  ever  had,  in  that  section  of 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  457 

the  country — but  the  greaser  very  nearly  went  the  way  of 
many  another  victim  of  a  '  brilliant  and  successful  operation;' 
he  was  almost  dead  from  hemorrhage  when  I  arrived. 

"  To  his  credit  be  it  said,  Mapes  assisted  me  in  dressing 
the  greaser's  wound — which  narrowly  missed  the  fellow's 
jugular,  to  say  nothing  of  some  other  important  things  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood.  He  also  slipped  a  double  eagle  in 
my  hand  at  the  completion  of  the  operation — he  was  a  frontier 
patron,  you  know. 

"I  fancied,  however,  that  he  looked  rather  sheepish, 
while  acting  as  my  assistant;  indeed,  when  I  called  his  atten- 
tion to  the  narrow  escape  of  the  internal  jugular  and  carotid, 
he  averted  his  face. 

"  'Well,'  said  I,  'you  know,  Jerry,  "a  miss  is  as  good  as 
a  mile.'" 

"'Now,  see  here,  Doc,'  said  he,  'don't  rub  et  inter  er 
feller  too  hard.  Y'u've  kinder  got  ther  bulge  on  me  in 
'natomy,  an'  'sides,  I  wuz  drunk,  an'  y'u  couldn't  cut  straight 
yerself,  ef  yer  wuz  drunk.' 

"  Mapes  evidently  thought  I  might  allow  my  professional 
jealousy  to  impel  me  to  criticise  his  operative  technique. 
However,  I  accepted  his  apology,  and  restored  the  entente 
cordiale  by  acknowledging  that  I  couldn't  do  much  better 
work  than  he,  drunk  or  sober.  I  was  a  regular  practitioner, 
my  boy,  and  it  would  have  been  unethical  to  criticise  a  pro- 
fessional brother — especially  one  who  handled  a  knife  so 
beautifully.  Then,  too,  Jerry's  consultation  business  was 
worth  a  great  deal  to  me — I  couldn't  afford  to  offend  him. 

"Having  finished  my  work,  I  left  my  patient  lying  com- 
fortably upon  a  cot  in  a  little  room  at  the  rear  of  the  bar- 
room, and  was  about  to  leave  for  my  humble  'office,'  which 
served  me  as  hotel,  professional  headquarters  and  operation 
room,  all  in  one — and  a  small  one  at  that.  Mapes,  however, 
insisted  on  my  joining  him  in  a  'night  cap.'  I  didn't  wear 
one,  but  concluded  to  humor  him.  The  memory  of  that 
throbbing  carotid  and  quivering  jugular  was  still  fresh  in 
my  mind. 

"Standing  about  the  bar  were  a  number  of  men,  who 
were  engaged  in  an  animated  discussion  of  the  recent  pas- 


458 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


sag-e  at  arms.     Their  conversation  was  plentifully  sprinkled 
with    allusions    to    'd — d    greasers,'  and    such    remarks    as 

'Never  missed  his  man 
afore!' — 'Mapes  must 
ha'  bin  full!'— 'Does 
Doc  think  he'll  pull 


"A   MISS   IS  AS   GOOD   AS   A   MILE." 


throug-h?' — and  so  on.      The   situation  was  so  puzzling-  to 
Jerry's  admirers  that  a  spirited  discussion  seemed  imminent. 
"Just  at  this  moment  there  appeared  at  the  door  com- 
municating- with  the  street,  the  queerest  looking-  individual  I 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  459 

had  ever  seen  in  my  life.  Imagine  a  man  of  six-foot-six,  per- 
haps fifty  years  of  age,  lanky  as  a  lath,  but  as  straight  as  a 
gun  barrel,  and  with  a  breast  like  a  pouter  pigeon,  and  you 
have  the  general  appearance  of  the  new-comer. 

"Upon  his  head  was  a  chapeau,  not  unlike  that  which  we 
see  in  the  pictures  of  the  first  Napoleon.  This  chapeau  was 
the  crowning  glory  of  a  full  military  uniform  of  a  German 
officer  of  cavalry.  At  his  side  hung  an  old  fashioned  rapier, 
while  his  belt  was  garnished  with  an  array  of  guns  that 
made  the  man  look  like  a  walking  arsenal.  His  feet  and  legs 
were  encased  in  military  jack-boots,  that  were  ornamented 
by  a  pair  of  huge  Mexican  spurs,  the  rowels  of  which  looked 
for  all  the  world  like  small  circular  saws. 

"The  visage  of  the  man  was  quite  as  imposing-  as  his 
raiment.  His  upper  lip  was  adorned  with  an  enormous, 
bushy,  gray  mustache,  that  might — 

'For  a  hundred  years  have  bristled  and  grown, 
Where  scissors  and  razors  were  quite  unknown. ' 

"The  ends  of  the  mustache,  as  likewise  a  long-  goatee 
that  ornamented  his  chin,  were  waxed  to  the  point  of  bristling1, 
savage  defiance. 

"But  the  most  unique  feature  of  this  formidable-looking 
personage,  was  the  wonderful  array  of  medals  that  glittered 
and  trembled  synchronously  with  the  tumultuous  heaving  of 
his  warlike,  manly  chest,  upon  the  front  of  his  coat. 

"He  was,  indeed,  a  most  martial-looking  man,  even  to  his 
Roman  nose,  that  stood  out  from  his  face  in  a  strikingly  com- 
bative fashion. 

"It  seemed  to  me,  however,  as  I  looked  at  the  man  more 
carefully,  that  his  eye  was  a  little  too  fishy,  and  his  com- 
plexion too  ashy,  to  fit  the  rest  of  the  warrior.  I  fancied, 
moreover,  that  there  was  just  a  suspicion  of  the  'wobbly' 
about  his  knees — still,  on  reflection,  I  thought  I  might  be 
mistaken,  as  I  knew  nothing  of  his  habits,  and  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  wobble  and  lachrymation  about  western  'red 
eye.' 

"Seeing  the  group  of  distinguished  citizens  engaged  in 
the  peaceful  pursuit  of  acquiring  kidney  disease  and  gin- 


460  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

drinker's  liver,  the  apparition  seemed  to  gain  confidence, 
and  advanced  to  the  center  of  the  room. 

"Striking  a  most  tragic  and  'Where  is  the  villain?'  atti- 
tude, he  said,  with  a  rich,  but,  I  fancied,  an  overdrawn 
southern  accent,  'Ah !  gentlemen,  I  pahceive  that  yo'  all 
are  enjoyin'  yo'  liq'ah  in  extreme  quietude.  May  I  inquiah 
where  that  d — d  greasah  is?  I  hope  that  yo'  all  have  not 
killed  him,  an'  thus  dahfeated  ma  righteous  angah!' 

"At  these  words  a  large  wink  appeared  to  permeate  the 
entire  assembly,  which,  as  one  man,  struck  an  attitiide  of 
attention  and  gave  the  warrior  a  military  salute  in  the  most 
approved  style. 

"Mapes  having  given  me  the  cue  to  follow  him,  we  now 
joined  the  party.  Saluting  the  new-comer  as  the  rest  of  the 
boys  had  done,  Jerry  said — 

" 'Good  evenin',  Major.  I'm  glad  ter  see  ye,  sir.  I've  bin 
informed  thet  ye  wuz  in  ther  bar-room  earlier  in  th'  evenin' 
when  ther  trouble  with  thet  d — d  yaller  belly  beginned.  I 
kin  assure  ye,  sir,  thet  only  ther  pressin'  necess'ty  uv  gittin' 
quick  ackshun  on  me  airly  in  ther  game,  indooced  me  ter 
hurry  ther  thing  afore  y'u  kum  back.  P'raps  et's  lucky  fer 
ther  greaser,  fer  Doc,  hyar,  sez  he'll  pull  through,  an'  I  know 
thet  ef  I'd  left  him  ter  y'u,  he  wouldn't  er  bin  good  fer  nuthin' 
but  er  pos'-mortem!' 

"  'Ah!  ma  deah  fren',  Mistah  Mapleson,  it  was  yo'  chiv- 
alric  conduct,  then,  that  dahfeated  ma  pu'pose,  which  was  to 
return  hyah,  as  soon  as  I  could  propahly  prepah  fo'  the  occa- 
sion, suh,  an'  slay  that  ungentlemanly  greasah  with  ma  own 
pistol,  suh!' 

"'But  perhaps  'tis  bettah  so,  suh,  as  I  do  not  like  to 
embrue  ma  ban's  with  human  goah,  so  soon  aftah  ma  return 
to  ma  old  haunts,  suh.  I  will  tha'fo'  accept  yo'  excuses, 
Mistah  Mapleson,  an'  if  yo'  will  ask  yo'  fren's  to  join  yo', 
suh,  I  would  be  very  glad  to  have  yo'  all  drink  ma  health,  suh.' 

"Everybody  crowded  up  to  the  bar,  and  as  soon  as  the 
opportunity  offered,  Jerry  introduced  me  to  the  Major. 

"'Major  Merriwether,  I'll  make  yer  'quainted  with  Doc 
Weymouth,  our  newmed'cine  man,  who  come  hyar  whilst  y'u 
wuz  er  doin'  Europe.  Doc,  this  is  Major  Merriwether,  one 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  461 

uv  our  mos'  prom'nent  an'  respected  cit'zens,  an'  the  braves' 
man  in  ther  hull  county,  sir!' 

'"Ma  fren'  Mistah  Mapleson,  does  me  too  much  honah, 
but  I'm  mo'  than  cha'med  to  meet  yo',  suh,'  said  the  Major, 
as  he  affectedly  grasped  my  hand.  '  Ouah  town,  suh,  is  a 
paradise  fo'  professional  men,  an'  I  have  no  doubt,  suh,  that 
yo'  will  prove  a  worthy  successah  to  that  distinguished  dis- 
ciple of,  ah — Esculapius,  the  late  Doctah  Prebyl,  suh,  who 
was  shot  by  Jack  Allen,  through  a  little  misundahstandin' 
ovah  a  lady,  suh,  an'  I'm  suah  that  yo'  are  quite  as  gallant  as 
he  was,  suh.' 

"Jerry  nudged  me  at  this  point,  and,  taking  the  hint,  I 
very  politely  expressed  my  delight  at  meeting  so  distin- 
guished a  soldier,  and  assured  the  Major  that  it  was  a 
pleasure  to  know  that  I  was  henceforth  to  be  a  member  of  a 
community  in  which  gallantry  and  bravery  were  so  highly 

appreciated  as  in  E .     I  informed  him  that,  while  I  could 

not  hope  to  emulate  either  him  or  my  distinguished  pre- 
decessor, in  the  matter  of  gallantry — especially  with  the  fair 
sex — I  could  modestly  state  that  I  was  considered  quite 
formidable  with  certain  weapons,  and  as  I  only  had  one 
pair  of  boots  and  didn't  care  to  go  into  eternity  bare-footed, 
I  should  quite  likely  die  with  them  on — or  words  to  that 
effect. 

"After  a  few  more  rounds  of  liquor,  the  party  broke  up. 

"As  he  bade  me  good-night,  the  Major  again  expressed 
the  pleasure  he  had  experienced  in  making  my  acquaintance. 

"  'I  hope,  suh,  that  the  acquaintance  begun  undah  such 
extraord'nary  circumstances,  will  continue,  to  ouah  mutual 
benefit,  suh.  I'm  suah  that  there  is  always  room  fo'  brave 
an'  talented  men  on  ma  list  of  fren's,  suh.  I  hope  to  enter- 
tain yo'  at  an  early  date  at  ma  own  humble  lodgin's.  Good 
night,  Doctah,  an'  suh  to  yo'. ' 

"Jerry  and  I  were  the  last  to  leave  the  place.  I  was  a 
night  owl,  and  my  friend  was  one  of  those  individuals  whose 
peculiar  faculties  are  to  be  seen  at  their  best  after  midnight. 
As  we  strolled  leisurely  along,  down  the  main  street  of  the 
town  toward  my  modest  domicile,  I  resolved  to  know  more 
of  the  Major,  and  feeling  certain  that  Jerry  was  well  posted 


462  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

in  that  direction,  I  suggested  that  he  stop  at  my  office  and 
chat  awhile. 

"  'I  wish  to  hear  more  of  the  Major,  Jerry,  and  I  am 
sure  you  are  not  yet  ready  for  bed.  You  are  not  used  to 
seasonable  hours,  and,  as  your  professional  adviser,  I  am  com- 
pelled to  inform  you  that  it  would  be  absolutely  dangerous 
for  you  to  suddenly  change  your  habits  by  retiring  thus 
early.  I  might  also  remark,  that  I  have  recently  received  a 
demijohn  of  fine  old  bourbon  whisky  from  my  Kentucky 
home,  which  I  have  not  yet  sampled.  Before  indulging  in 
the  luxury  of  drinking  it,  I  feel  that  I  am  in  duty  bound  to 
get  your  expert  opinion  upon  it.' 

"  'Wall,  since  ye  put  et  in  thet  way,  Doc,  I  kain't  refuse 
yer.  Kaintucky  licker  aint  picked  up  ev'ry  day,  an'  anyhow, 
I  like  ter  'blige  er  fren',  et  all  times.' 

"In  justice  to  my  old  friend  Mapes,  I  will  confess  that 
he  did  not  slight  the  work  involved  in  sampling  my  whisky— 
indeed,  I  have  often  wondered  how  he  could  have  been  so 
self-sacrificing — and  live. 

"We  had  been  seated  in  my  office  for  at  least  an  hour, 
with  our  feet  cocked  up  on  the  old  pitch-pine  table — which 
served  me  alike  for  operating  table,  book-shelf,  gynaecological 
chair  and  dining-room  table,  and  from  which  I  got  my  supply 
of  whittling  material,  toothpicks,  and  pine  knots  for  starting 
the  fire  o'  mornings — 

"Jerry  had  bravely  started  on  his  tenth  round  of  drinks, 
with  myself  a  close  second  in  the  race,  and  the  demijohn  of 
whisky  ahead  of  both  of  us — for  I  could  see  it  disappearing 
in  the  dim,  shadowy  distance. 

"To  tell  the  truth,  I  had  almost  forgotten  the  Major— 
and  everything  else,  for  that  matter — when  Jerry,  tiring  of 
the  old  clay  pipe  that  I  had  handed  him  on  entering  my 
shack,  laid  the  smoke-stained  veteran  down  upon  the  table, 
extracted  a  plug  of  'nigger-heel'  from  some  portion  of  his 
raiment,  drew  his  bowie,  cut  off  a  huge  'chaw,'  surrounded 
the  same  and  began: 

"  '  'Twuz  in  ther  year  fifty-eight,  er  thar  'bouts,  thet 
Maje  fust  struck  this  kermunity.  He  hed  bin  prospectin' 
down  Quartz  City  way,  an'  hed  struck  hard-pan — which  wuz 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  463 

dead  easy  ter  do  in  thet  section,  I  kin  tell  ye.  The  man 
whut  staked  out  Quartz  City,  bed  plenty  uv  imagernashun,  but 
d — d  little  brains  in  ther  pint  er  hiz  pick. 

"  'Some  uv  our  boys — I  think  'twuz  Frisco  Bill  an'  Bob 
Vandoozer — with  er  crowd  uv  th'  up  country  fellers,  wuz 
chasin'  up  er  hoss  thief. 

"  '  They  happened  ter  git  side-tracked  inter  one  er  them 
canyons,  thet's  thicker 'n  bar  tracks  down  thar,  an'  wuz  fol- 
lerin'  erlong-  whut  prov'd  ter  be  er  wrong-  scent,  when,  all  ter 
wonst,  they  fetched  up  in  er  little  valley  lyin'  thar  'mong-  ther 
hills,  clean  shet  in  on  all  sides,  'cept  et  ther  canyon  whar  ther 
boys  hed  come  in.  Thar  'd  bin  er  purty  heavy  fall  er  snow, 
an'  ye  kin  jes'  bet  thet  trampin'  wuz'nt  enny  snap,  so  ther 
boys  'eluded  ter  rest  er  while,  an'  g-it  er  bite  uv  "salt  horse" 
an'  hard  tack  an'  some  hot  coffee. 

"'Whilst  Bob  Vandoozer  wuz  rummag-in'  'round,  tryin' 
ter  g-it  'nuff  wood  terg-ether  fer  er  fire,  he  stumbled  onter  er 
miser'ble  little  tumble-dowTn  cabin,  half  buried  in  ther  dirt 
an'  rubbish  thet  hed  fell  down  frum  ther  hillside  up 
erbove  et. 

"  '  Not  thinkin'  uv  ther  posserbility  uv  ther  cabin  hevin' 
er  perpri'tor,  Bob  wrent  in,  an'  mos'  fell  over  whut  he  fust 
s'posed  ter  be  ther  karkiss  uv  er  man! 

"  '  He  'mejutly  yelled  et  ther  rest  er  ther  boys  an'  they 
come  rushin'  up  ter  'vestig-ate  his  find. 

"'Ter  the'r  s'prise  they  foun'  on  removin'  ther  snow- 
kivered  blankets  thet  ther  serposed  dead  man  wuz  wrapped 
in,  thet  the'r  diskiv'ry  wuz  erlive — not  very  much  so,  et's 
true,  but  nev'therless,  onmistakerbly  erlive. 

"  'Hed  ther  ockerpant  uv  ther  cabin  bin  ondisturbed  er 
little  while  long-er,  he  wouldn't  hev  panned  out  'nuff  life  ter 
pay  fer  onwrappin'  'im. 

"'It  wuz  plain  ter  be  seed  howsomever,  thet  ther  half 
dead  man  wuz  sufferin'  frum  er  combernashun  uvstarvashun 
an'  freeze  up. 

" '  Ther  boys  soon  hed  er  huge  fire  er  blazin',  an'  by 
smart  rubbin'  an'  g-ivin'  him  plenty  er  red-eye,  they  fin'lly 
got  the'r  pashunt  'round. 

" '  Skercely  hed  ther  poor  devil  come  ter  his  senses  an' 


464 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


power  uv  lokermotion,  afore  he  tottered  ter  his  feet,  give  'em 
er  mil'tary  s'lute  an  sez — ez  ther  boys  told  ther  story — 


"  ER  MOS'  ONPROMISIN'  LOOKIN'  FIND  HE  wuz. 


'"Ah!  gentlemen,  I-I  welcome  yo' all  to  ma-ma  humble 
abode,  an'-an'-an'-I  trust  yo'll  pahdon  me  fo'  ma  'parent 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  465 

disco'tesy  in  failin'  to  greet  yo'  in  the  propah  mannah — the 
hospitable  mannah  of  the  Sou-South. 

'  "Ma-ma  fren's  have  depa'ted  in  su-su-su'chof-of  prov- 
endah,  an'  ma  supplies  have-have  run  rathah  low,  suhs,  an'  I 
haven't  even  a-a-cigah  to  offahyo'all,  suhs,  but-but-bu-b"— 

"  '  Down  he  went,  inter  ther  snow,  kerslump!  His  dig- 
nerty,  true  south'n  horsp'tality,  an'  stren'th  give  out  all  et 
wonst.  Ther  strain  wuz  too  much  fer  'im,  an'  even  th'  ole 
red-eye — an'  thet  wuz  er  dead-raiser  frum  'way  back— 
couldn't  keep  'im  on  his  pins  enny  long-er. 

"  '  Like  all  uv  our  true  westerners,  ther  boys  wuz  er  kind- 
hearted  lot  er  fellers,  an',  ez  the'r  rutherawk'ard  find  wuz  too 
weak  ter  mosey,  they  stayed  in  ther  little  valley  sev'ral  days. 
Luck'ly  ther  weather  sud'nly  changed — ez  et's  likely  ter  do 
'mong  our  mountains — an'  ther  sun  come  out  right  warm,  so 
thet  ther  sick  man  got  better,  purty  rapid-like. 

"  '  Er  few  squar'  meals  under  his  vest  an'  ther  poor  chap 
wuz  ready  ter  talk  er  blue  streak,  but  ther  boys  stood  'im 
off,  till  they  thort  'twuz  safe  fer  'im  ter  spread  hisself  er 
little. 

"'When  they  fin'lly  did  'low  'im  ter  move  erbout,  an' 
talk,  they  took  'count  uv  stock,  ez  'twuz,  an'  kinder  begun 
sizin'  the'r  diskiv'ry  up — an'  er  mos'  onpromisin'  lookin'  find 
he  wuz,  y'u  bet!  He  lookt  ez  ef  he  wtizn't  wuth  workin',  an' 
didn't  hev  a  ounce  er  payin'  rock  in  'im.' 

"  '  Er  giant  in  statur',  an'  er  pine-tree  in  build,  he  lookt 
jes'  like  ther  handle  uv  a  ole  pick,  He'd  never  bin  none  too 
fat,  an'  it's  easy  ter  'magine  how  he  lookt  after  his  hard- 
scrabble  'sperience.  Dirty,  bleery-eyed,  an'  tangle-haired — 
he  wuz  er  leetle  ther  toughes'  lookin'  critter  ther  boys  ever 
seed. 

"  '  His  name,  he  sed,  expandin'  his  chest  with  his  pecool- 
yar  dignerty,  wuz  "Majah  Merriwethah,  suh!"  He  wuz  er 
native  of  "Kaintucky,  by  gad,  suh!"  an'  wuz  er  vet'ran  uv 
ther  Mexican  "wah." 

"•  'Et  seems  thet  ther  Major  hed  bin  prospectin'  with  er 
party  uv  three  Englishers,  thet  he  accident'lly  fell  in  with. 
They  hed  fin'lly  landed  in  ther  little  valley  whar  our  boys 
foun'  th'  ole  feller.  Ther  Englishers  hed  diskivered  thet 


466  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

they  knowed  ez  little  uv  prospectin'  ez  they  did  uv  princ'ple, 
an'  hed  quit  ther  camp. 

"  '  Ther  Major — pore  devil — knowed  even  less  'bout  pros- 
pectin',  but  he  could  er  give  em'  pints  on  manly  princ'ple 
an'  "honah."  In  his  confidin'  innercence — er  ignerance, 
wich  'mounts  ter  'bout  ther  same  thing- — he  jes'  'lowed  them 
fellers  ter  mosey  off  on  er  pertended  hunt  fer  supplies, 
leavin'  him  ter  keep  house.  He  kep'  house — shore  'miff — an' 
thet's  erbout  all  he  did  keep.  S'posin'  thet  his  pardners 
would,  uv  course,  come  back,  he  kep'  on  er  keepin'  house  till 
he  wuz  clean  knocked  under,  when  he  rolled  hisself  up  in  his 
blankets  ter  nap,  till  his  f  ren's  got  back — ther  pore  ole  sucker! 

'"He'd  er  bin  nappin'  thar  yit,  in  thet  lonely  valley,  ef 
our  boys  hedn't  found  him,  but  d'ye  know,  thet  d — d  ole  fool 
is  still  er  wonderin'  what  become  of  "ma  deah  fren's?" 
He  is  "suah  somethin'  se'ious  must  have  happened  to  them, 
suh,"  an'  is  still  regrettin'  thet  they  didn't  come  back,  so  thet 
he  could  "entahtain  yo'  all  as  a  Southern  gentleman  should, 
suhs." 

"'Wall,  ther  boys  brought  th' ole  Major  back  ter  town 
with  'em,  an'  he's  bin  one  uv  our  mos'  prom'nent  cit'zens  ever 
sence.  He  growed  very  pop'lar  ter  wonst,  an'  ther  very  dog's, 
soon  larnt  ter  like  th'  ole  man.  If  he'd  hed  jest  er  little 
more  brains — er  even  er  little  less — he'd  er  bin  er  shinin' 
perlitikal  success  'fore  now.' 

"'But,'  I  said,  'your  Major  has  some  peculiarities  that 
appear  to  me  to  be  rather  dangerous  attributes  in  a  town  like 
this.' 

"  '  Ha !  ha !  ha ! '  laughed  Jerry— 'He  does  talk  an'  act  like 
er  fire-eater  don't  he?  Wall,  ye  see,  ther  boys  wuz  dead  onter 
th'ole  man  'fore  they  ever  struck  town  with  'im,  an'  ez  every- 
body in  this  hyar  town  knows  'im,  an'  thar's  plenty  uv  us 
fellers  whut  brags  less  an'  shoots  more'n  ther  Major  does, 
thet's  dead  willin'  ter  do  his  shootin'  fer  'im,  sti'angers  don't 
trouble  'im  much.  Wonst  in  er  while,  one  uv  ther  boys  hez 
ter  take  an  "affaih  of  honah,  suh," off 'n  th' ole  Major's  han's, 
but  not  frequent.  Still,  th'  ole  feller  hez  quite  er  few  lodgers 
in  er  little  proxy  graveyard  er  his'n  over  yonder,  an'  ther 
way  he  terr'fies  er  tender  foot  is  er  caution!' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  467 

"'But  he  really  has  been  a  soldier,  has  he  not?  Else 
whence  comes  his  martial  air?'  I  asked. 

"'Oh,  yes,  he  hez  bin  er  soger,  an'  no  mistake.  We 
finally  diskivered  thet  he  wuz  er  drum-major  in  er  milishy 
reg'ment  somewhar  er  uther.  Et  seems  thet  he  did  'list  in 
ther  reg'lar  army,  but  ther  perticklers  uv  his  mil'tary  k'reer 
hez  never  been  found  out.  Ye  see,  Doc,  we  folks  out  hyar 
don't  worry  our  cit'zens  much  'bout  the'r  prevyus  hist'ries — 
'twouldn't  do,  ye  know' — and  Jerry  winked  knowingly. 

" '  Ter  be  sure,'  said  he,  continuing1,  'ther  Major's  pe- 
coolyer  ways  don't  jes'  zackly  fit  his  yarns  uv  how  "we  all 
fout  the  Mexicans  'long  with  General  Scott,  suh,"  but  ez  we 
aint  no  mil'tary  men,  we  don't  zackly  know  whether  he  hez 
raaly  killed  ez  many  men  "to  ma  own  so'd,  suh,"  ez  he  claims, 
er  not. 

"  '  We  hev  never  give  'im  er  chance  ter  show  his  brav'ry 
in  his  own  way  but  wonst.  Ez  much  ez  we  love  th'  ole  man, 
we  kaint  help  playin'  tricks  on  'im  'kasionally,  an'  I'm  most 
ershamed  ter  say  thet  I  put  up  er  job  on  'im  wonst  myself. 

"  '  Ye  see,  'twuz  this  way:  Ther  Major  hed  hed  er  lot 
uv  whut  he  b'lieved  ter  be  ha'rbreadth  'scapes  frum  killin' 
people,  an'  so  on,  an'  we  hed  noticed  thet  he  us'ally  crawled 
out  uv  his  soshal  obligashuns  through  ther  delay  w'ich  allus 
seemed  ter  be  ness'ary  in  his  prep'rations  fer  er  row.  He 
either  hed  ter  go  ter  ther  barber-shop  ter  git  his  ha'r  cut, 
'coz  his  head  sweated  so  when  he  got  mad,  er  ther  gun  he 
hed,  wuz  out  er  order  an'  he  mus'  go  an'  git  er  bigger  one,  er 
else  his  boots  pinched  him  so  thet  he  wuz  erfraid  his  aim  ud 
be  onstiddy,  an'  he  mus'  git  his  "dress  boots,  suh." 

"  '  Sometimes  ther  Major's  performance  wuz  varyated  by 
— "  I  haven't  th'  honah  of  youah  'quaintance,  suh,  an'  I  mus' 
inquiah  as  to  yo'  social  standin',  suh.  In  case  I  should  find  it 
satisfactory,  suh,  I  shall  be  pleased  to  'commodate  yo'  suh." 

"'By  ther  time  ther  stack  uv  condishuns  perposed  by 
ther  Major  hed  bin  fixed  up,  some  feller  'mong  his  num'rous 
proxies  hed  us'ally  settled  ther  thing — er  got  settled  hisself. 

"'Butth'  ole  feller  hez  allus  bin  very  lib'ral  in  offerin' 
ter  take  his  fren's  own  little  erfairs  off'n  therhan's.  P'raps 
ye  noticed  thet  featur'  uv  his  make  up,  ternight.  Hed  ther 


468  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

greaser  bin  still  er  standin'  when  ther  Major  got  back  ter 
ther  hotel,  I  dunno  whut  would  er  happen'd.  Suthin  orful,  I 
reckon.  Ye  see,  Maje  wuz  thar  when  ther  row  begun,  an', 
with  er  reques'  ter  ther  boys  ter  keep  cool  till  he  come  back, 
went  home  ter  git  ready  fer  ther  fray.' 

"'Well,'  I  said,  'the  gallant  soldier  evidently  has  great 
confidence  in  his  friends.' 

"  '  Yep,'  said  Mapes,  musingly,  as  he  fondled  the  handle 
of  his  huge  bowie — 'he  does  understan'  us  purty  good. 

"'Wall,'  said  my  friend,  continuing,  'ther  boys  fin'lly 
calkerlated  ter  make  ther  Major  give  us  er  show  down. 

"  '  Ther  late  Tom  Wolcott  wuz  sheriff  et  thet  time,  an'  ez 
quick  et  er  joke  ez  he  wuz  on  ther  trigger.  Pore  ole  Tom, 
we  wuz  good  fren's  until — wall,  Tom  wuz  ready  fer  ennythin' 
in  ther  line  uv  fun,  an'  wuz  dead  willin'  ter  help  us  put  up  er 
job  on  ther  Major. 

"'One  mornin',  ez  er  party  of  us  boys  wuz  standin'  in 
front  uv  Bill  Hewlett's  place,  talkin'  horse,  and  cock  fightin', 
an'  list'nin'  ter  ther  Major's  'count  uv  his  explites  in  ther 
Mexican  war,  Tom  Wolcott  rode  up,  an'  called  out,  "  Hallo, 
thar,  Major!  I'd  like  ter  see  ye  er  minnit!" 

'"Ah,  good  mo'nin',  Mistah  She'iff,  I'm  pleased  to  see 
yo',  suh — just  one  moment,  suh!" 

"  '  With  this,  ther  Major  went  on  with  his  modest  descrip- 
shun  uv  one  uv  his  blood  curdlin'  adventur's. 

'  "As  I  was  sayin',  gentlemen,  they  came  on,  shouldah  to 
shouldah,  as  feahce  a  lot  of  greasahs  as  evah  yo'  saw!  Ma 
fren'  on  ma  right,  an'  ma  fren'  on  ma  left,  each  fetched  his 
man,  an'  by  gad,  suhs!  there  were  jive  caftcasses  on  the  grourf 
befo*  yc?  could  wink  yo"1  eye,  suhs  !  In  less  than  a  qua'tah  of  a 
minute  we  all  had — 

'"Say,  Maje,  ye  blood-thirsty  ole  fire  eater  y'u!  Kaint 
y'u  stop  er  wallerin'  in  gore,  long  'nuff  ter  talk  bizness 
with  me?" 

'"W'y,  of  co'se,  Mistah  She'iff,  I'm  delighted,  suh,  but 
these  deah  boys  are  soimpo'tunate,  suh,  that  I  can  nevah  give 
them  enough  of  ma  modest  adventuahs,  suh.  How  can  I 
assist  yo',  ma  gallant  fren'?" 

'"Wall,  I'll  tell  ye,  Major,"   sez  Tom,  "knowin'  yore 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  469 

brav'rv  an'  public  sperrit,  I  hev  come  ter  ask  ye  ter  'sist  me 
in  er  very  'portant  dooty.  I'm  called  out  uv  town,  an'  mus' 
leave  et  wonst.  I  hev  jes'  got  er  messidge  frum  Placerville, 
ter  th'  effeck  thet  thet  d — d  cutthroat,  Comanche  Dick,  is  on 
his  way  hyar,  an'  '11  prob'bly  git  hyar  this  evenin'.  Now,  I 
want  y'u  ter  take  er  couple  uv  yore  fren's,  an'  corral  thet 
ruffy'an.  I  sh'd  like  ter  hev  ther  credit  uv  capturin'  him 
myself,  but  I  kaint  stop,  an'  thar's  nobody  more  deservin'  uv 
th'  honor  than  yerself,  an'  I'm  dead  sure  ther  rep'tashun  uv 
our  town  is  safe  in  yore  han's." 

'"  Yo'  fiattah  me,  suh,"  sed  ther  Major,  drawin'  hisself 
up  till  he  looked  like  er  shot  tower,  "  but  yo'  may  be  suah  yo' 
reques'  shall  be  complied  with.  That  d — d  ruffian  is  as  good 
as  hung,  suh !" 

'"Ther  sheriff  now  perceeded  ter  sw'ar  Maje  in  ez  er 
dep'ty,  selectin'  Dutch  Bill  an'  me  fer  his  'sistants. 

" '  Arter  er  minoot  descripshun  uv  our  man,  an'  er  few 
partin'  words  uv  advice,  in  w'ich  we  wuz  warned  not  ter  let 
ther  desp'rader  git  ther  drop  on  us,  but  ter  kill  'im  on  ther 
littlest  show  uv  fight,  Tom  rode  erway. 

" '  Night  come,  an'  with  et,  ther  news  thet  Comanche 
Dick  hed  arriv,  an',  with  his  us'al  nerve,  wuz  act'ally  playin' 
poker,  down  et  ther  Minerva  saloon. 

"'Ther  Major  gathered  his  forces,  an'  in  single  file — 
ther  Major  bringin'  up  ther  rear — we  "deployed,"  es  he 
called  et,  in  ther  direckshun  uv  th'  enemy. 

"  'Ye  jes'  orter  hev  seed  us,  Doc!  Thar  never  wuz  er 
bloody  buckerneer  heeled  like  we  wuz!  Talk  erbout  bein' 
armed  ter  ther  teeth ! — W'y,  our  very  toe-nails  wuz  sharp- 
ened up  fer  ther  perspective  scrimmage ! 

"  '  Dutch  Bill  an'  me  livened  up  ther  wray  ter  ther  Minerva 
by  'rangin'  our  earthly  erffairs  in  sich  er  way  thet  ther  one 
uv  us  whut  happen'd  ter  live,  could  perform  ther  ness'ary 
min'strater's  dooties  fer  th'  estate  uv  his  deceesed  pard.  We 
alser  axed  th'  ole  Major  whut  we  could  do  fer  him,  in  thet 
line,  but  he  seemed  ter  be  too  bizzy  tryin'  ter  walk  'thout 
wobblin',  ter  listen  t'  our  fren'ly  guff. 

"  'On  arrivin'  et  ther  saloon,  we  WTUZ  goin'  direckly  in, 
but  ther  Major  'lowed  thet,  ter  be  strictly  mil'tary,  we'd 


470  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

orter  rek'niter  er  little  fust,  an'  then  send  in  er  advance 
guard.  We  tharfore  peeked  through  ther  winder,  but  'thout 
diskiverin'  our  man, 

"  '  Ther  Major  now  showed  his  erthority,  an'  ordered 
Dutch  Bill  inter  ther  place  ez  er  scoutin'  party. 

"'Be  suah  yo'  have  him  located  pufec'ly,  suh,  so  we  all 
won't  make  a  mistake  an'  injah  the  wrong-  man,  suh!"  sez 
Maje,  ez  Bill  went  in. 

"'Bill  fin'lly  come  back,  an'  sed  thet  our  man  wuz  er 
settin'  et  ther  furderes'  table. 

'  "  Ye  kaint  miss  him ! "  sez  he.  "  He's  er  great  big  cuss 
with  er  Mexican  sombrero  on !  His  mug  is  jes'  like  a  Injun's, 
an'  his  ha'r  is  long  an'  black  jes'  like  'em !  He's  got  two  big 
six-shooters  er  layin'  right  in  front  uv  him  on  ther  table !  Ye 
kaint  make  no  mistake,  'coz  he's  th'  only  feller  et  thet  table 
whut  haint  got  no  whiskers! " 

'  "Ah !"  sed  ther  Major,  'we  have  him  suah,  an'  will  now 
proceed  to  effect  his  captuah.  But,  bless  ma  soul!  If  I 
haven't  come  down  hyah  in  ma  light  boots,  an'  ma  straw  hat! 
An',  come  to  think  gentlemen,  I  have  only  ma  small  derringers 
with  me!  I  will  immediately  retiah,  an'  prepah  maself  prop- 
ahly  fo'  this  impo'tant.affaih.  I  want  yo',  gentlemen,  to  entah 
the  saloon  an'  stan'  close  to  ouah  man.  Don't  let  him  escape, 
an'  above  all  suhs,  don't  do  anvthin'  to  rob  me  of  th'  honah  of 
his  captuah!" 

"  '  Wall,  fer  wonst  ther  Major  wuz  fooled — we  waited,  mi' 
er  good  hour  et  thet. 

"'When  he  fin'lly  showed  up,  dressed  in  er  reg'lar  ole 
slouch  hat,  with  his  pants  tucked  inter  er  pa'r  uv  cowhide 
boots,  an'  er  couple  uv  mount'n  howitzers  slung  onter  him, 
Bill  an'  me,  wuz  standin'  on  both  sides  uv  our  fren'  Hank 
Dixon,  alias  Comanche  Dick — ez  tough  er  lookin'  desp'rader 
ez  ever  scraped  his  whiskers  off,  er  wore  a  Injun  wig. 

"'When  ther  Major  come  inter  ther  saloon,  he  wuz 
par'lyzed,  but  he  hed  ter  face  ther  music.  Bill  an'  me  jest 
grabbed  er  arm  uv  ther  desp'rader  while  some  feller 
snatched  erway  his  guns! 

"'Come,  Major,'  sez  I,  'th'  onner  is  yore's — come  an' 
gitet!' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


471 


'  "  Tha-tha-thank  yo',  suhs,"  sedther  pale-faced,  totterin' 
hero  ez  he  tremblin'ly  stumbled  to'ard  us. 

" '  Walkin',  er  ruther  wobblin',  up  t'  our  pris'ner — who 
wuz  er  glarin'  et  ther  Major  like  er  she  painter  et  bay — our 
brave  sojer  put  one  han'  on  ther  ruffyan's  shoulder,  drawed 
er  shooter  with  t'  other  an' — fainted  dead  awav! 


A    BOLD    CAPTURE. 


" '  Comanche  Dick  got  loose,  an'  got  erway  in  th'  excite- 
ment— thar  wuz  nobody  in  town  but  ther  Major  thet  could 
deliver  ther  goods. 

"  'Uv  course,  ther  Major  hed  er  windy  excuse  ready  fer 
Tom  Wolcott  when  he  got  back  nex'  day. 

'  "Sod — d  embarrassin',  suh,  to  have  that  old  wound  that 
I  received  at  the  battle  of  Resaca,  suh,  ovahcome  me  with  one 
of  ma  old  attacks  of  vertigo,  just  at  the  wrong  moment, 
suh.  If  I  had  only  not  been  compelled  to  retu'n  fo'  ma  pistols, 


472  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

suh,  I  would  have  fetched  ma  man  befo'  the  spell  came  on  me. 
But  yo'  mustn't  blame  the  othah  boys,  suh,  they  are  dead 
game  men — quite  as  game  as  masef,  suh." 

"  'But  there's  one  thing1  that  puzzles  me,  Jerry,'  I  said, 
'  Kentuckians  don't  usually  have  to  go  and  get  their  hair  cut, 
or  anything-  else,  before  they  fight.  "Ole  Kaintuck"  is  a 
state  where  heroes  are  bred,  and  while  Kentuckians  are  not 
all  fire-eaters,  most  of  them  are  taught  in  their  early  child- 
hood, that  running  away  or  hiding  behind  trees  in  time  of 
danger,  are  not  the  accomplishments  of  a  true  and  spirited 
gentleman.  There's  a  false  note  in  your  Major,  somewhere.' 

" '  Now,  see  hyar,  Doc,  don't  fer  all  ther  world  serpose 
thet  I'm  er  puttin'  ther  pore  ole  Major  up  ez  er  sample  uv 
ther  Kaintuckian.  He  hez  ther  instinks  uv  er  gentleman,  an' 
the  top-lofty  feelin's  uv  er  hero — but  ther  kind  ole  feller 
hez  got  er  soul  like  er  mouse. 

"  'I'm  frum  Tennessee,  myself,  an'  'twixt  you  an'  me,  I 
don't  b'lieve  ther  state  over  ther  line  ever  perduced  anythin' 
like  ther  Major.  Ter  my  notion,  he's  er  big,  chicken-hearted, 
white-livered  ole  fraud!  Howsomever,  he's  er  kar'kter — an' 
thet's  er  hull  lot. 

"  'Arter  th'ole  Major  located  'mong  us,'  continued  Jerry, 
'  he  bed  purty  hard  scratchin'  fer  er  while.  Ez  I  hev  already 
sed,  ther  boys  tuk  er  great  shine  ter  th'  ole  feller,  so  thet 
ther  staple  art'kles  ness'ary  ter  life  in  this  hyar  place — ter- 
backer  an'  licker — haint  never  cost  'im  nothin'.  His  brillyunt 
prospec's- — ter  be  re'lyzed  in  ther  "neah  futuah,"  hez  got  'im 
onlim'ted  credit  et  ther  diff  'runt  bar-rooms  'bout  town.  His 
slate,  uv  course,  hez  bin  taken  keer  uv  purty  reg'lar,  by  sich 
uv  ther  boys  ez  happen'd  ter  be  on  top  fer  ther  time  bein'. 

"  '  By  er  little  'rangement  with  Pete  Waters'  wife — 'twuz 
ter  her  boardin'  house  thet  ther  Major  wuz  rek'mended  on 
his  errival  in  town — he  hez  never  been  hard  up  for  provender 
— he  hez  never  missed  er  meal  ner  paid  er  red. 

"  'Uv  course,  er  gentleman  uv  ther  Major's  standin',  hez 
ter  hev  spendin'  money,  an'  this  wuz  took  keer  uv,  too.  Th' 
ole  man  is  er  fa'r  poker  player,  when  he's  on  ther  squar, 
an'  er  holy  terror  when  he's  crooked;  so  betwixt  whut  ther 
bovs  hez  lent  'im,  er  'lowed  'im  ter  win,  wonst  in  er  while, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


473 


an'  whut  he  hez  skinned  off  frum  some  tenderfoot  er  uther, 

frum  time  ter  time,  ther  Major  hez  kep'  his  soshal  persishun 

up  ter  high-water  mark. 

"  'Durin' 
his  res'dence 
hyar,  ther  Ma- 
jor hez  kep 'on 
er  prospect- 
in',  with  'bout 
ther  same 
jedgrnent  ez 
he  use  terhev. 
F  e  r  down- 
right,  blun- 
derin'  imber- 
cility,  he  is 
ther  wust 
miner  in  ther 
hull  kentry. 
He's  jes'  ez 
likely  ez  not, 
ter  sink  er 
hole  in  some 
place  er  other 
jes'  'coz  ther 
grass  looks 
green  an 'ther 
flowers  is 
purty  'roun' 
thar.  An 'then 
he '11  say,  "Ma 
dear  suh,  we 
should  look  fo' 

nachah's  wealth  where  she  showahs  her  g-if's  in  the   mos' 

profusion,  suh." 

"  '  But,  "  er  fool  fer  luck ! "  ez  a  ole  sayin'  hez  et.    Th'  ole 

Major  fin'lly  did  strike  et  rich.     He  never  kerried  his  find 

beyond  his  prospec'  hole,  howsomever — er  synderkate  bought 


AN    IDEAL    MINING    SITE. 


474  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

et  uv  'im  fer  forty  thousand  dollars,  spot  cash.  Ef  th'  ole 
fool  bed  only  held  onter  it!'  Jerry  groaned. — 'Thet  d — d 
synderkate  uv  blue-bellied  Yankees  hez  made  over  er  million 
out  er  th'  ole  man's  find,  an'  haint  got  th'  ore  all  out  yit — 
more's  ther  pity.' 

"'I  presume  that  the  old  man  made  good  use  of  his 
money,'  I  said.  'Forty  thousand  dollars,  well  invested,  is 
sometimes  as  a  bird  in  hand  unto  two  in  the  bush.' 

"'Wall,  Doc,'  said  Jerry,  'y'u  don't  seem  ter  understarf 
ther  Major's  kar'kter  yit.' 

"  '  Th'  ole  man  hed  off'n  sed,  thet  ef  ever  he  struck  pay 
dirt,  he  wuz  goin'  ter  take  er  trip  Voun'  ther  world,  an'  no 
sooner  did  he  git  hold  uv  his  money,  than  he  perceeded  ter 
graterfy  his  ambishun.  He  left  us,  jes'  six  months  ergo — 
with  flyin'  colors.  He  got  back  er  few  days  ergo,  after  havin' 
got  erway  with  er  mighty  small  po'tion  uv  his  sirkit  uv  th' 
earth. 

"  'He  came  home  t'  us  clean  busted,  but  ez  happy  ez  er 
clam,  an'  with  his  fire-eatin'  perpensi'ties  still  onquenched — 
in  fack,  et  seems  ter  me  thet  his  dignerty  is  more  easy  ter 
ruffle  than  ever.  Intermate  'soshiashun  with  kings  an' 
queens,  hez  so  inflated  him  thet  he's  now  with  us  in  ther  body 
only — his  soul  is  in  ther  clouds. 

"'In  spite  uv  ther  serspishun  thet  his  roy'l  fren's  wuz 
blood  relashuns  uv  some  pot'ntaters  thet  we  hev  right  hyar 
in  town— hull  packs  uv  'em  in  fack — we've  hed  er  heap  er 
fun  outer  ther  Major's  descripshun  uv  his  num'rous  ad- 
ventur's. 

"'Now,  thet  y'u  hev  got  erquainted  with  ther  gall'nt 
Major,  yer  likely  ter  git  yer  own  ears  filled  with  some  uv 
his  orful  explites. 

"'Et's  easy  t'  understan'  whar  ther  Major's  prospec' 
money  went.  He  bought  more  d — d  fool  things  whilst  he  wuz 
in  Europe,  than  y'u  could  'magine  ter  save  yer!  His  mos' 
remark'ble  "soov'neers,"  ez  he  called  'em,  wuz  er  lot  er 
mil'tary  an'  other  unerforms.  He  hez  er  big  colleckshun 
uv  all  kinds — more'n  I  s'posed  ever  wuz  wore. 

"  '  'Mong  uther  things  whut  he  brought  back  with  'im, 
wuz  er  'sortment  uv  medals,  wich,  ercordin'  ter  his  'count, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  475 

wuz  persented  to  'im  by  varyous  mig-hty  pot'ntaters,  frum 
ther  Zar  uv  Rooshia  to  ther  Pashaw  uv  Egyp'.  Ter  be  sure, 
et  would  er  took  er  life-time  er  travelling  ter  gether  up  all  er 
thet  thar  stuff  in  ther  way  uv  soger  cloze  an'  dek'rashuns, 
but  nuthin'  is  onposserble  t'  our  gall'nt  Major,  whose 
'maginashun  travels  in  seven-league  boots,  even  ef  he  didn't. 

"'Wall,  Doc,  I  hev  given  ye  ther  Major's  hist'ry  an' 
strikin'  pecoolyar'ties  up  ter  date.  Ez  yo're  er  better  jedge 
uv  human  natur'  nor  mos'  men,  an'  er  expert  in  kar'kter 
study  in',  ye'll  prob'ly  find  'im  wuth  cultervatin'. 

"  'An'  now,  I  mus'  say  g-ood  mornin'.  I  want  ter  git 
washed  up  fer  breakfas',  an'  it's  mos'  sun-up  already.  So 
long,  Doc.' 

"  To  my  surprise,  I  found  that  my  entertaining  com- 
panion was  right.  The  first  rays  of  the  sun  were  darting  up 
behind  the  hills,  gullantly  piercing  the  morning  fog1  that  filled 
our  little  valley  and  feebly  struggled  against  the  brilliant  darts 
of  its  mortal  foe. 

"I  wonder  if  there  are  any  other  such  sunrises  and  sun- 
sets, the  world  over,  as  we  used  to  have  there  in  the  heart  of 
the  Sierras.  I  have  seen  many,  afloat  and  ashore,  but  never 
the  equal  of  those  of  my  mountain  days.  They  were,  to  me, 
kindly  greetings  and  gentle  benedictions.  I  often  wonder  if 
in  the  bay  of  Naples — but  there;  one  is  not  always  young, 
and  the  sunrises  and  sunsets  of  our  later  years,  must  have 
more  of  fog  and  cloud  than  those  of  the  olden  time.  They 
have  more  of  the  sombre  tinge  of  Autumn  than  of  the  warm 
and  rosy  glow  of  Spring.  'Twas  surely  of  a  morning  of  his 
youthful  days  that  the  poet  wrote — 

'  Hail  to  the  joyous  day  !     With  purple  clouds 
The  whole  horizon  glows.     The  breezy  Spring- 
Stands  loosely  floating  on  the  mountain  top 
And  deals  her  sweets  around.     The  sun,  too,  seems 
As  conscious  of  my  joy,  with  brighter  beams 
To  gild  the  happy  world. ' 

"Heigho!  I  wonder  how  my  early  experiences  wrould  im- 
press me,  could  I  but  go  through  them  again,  and  weigh  them 
with  maturer  judgment  and  less  keen  sensibilities.  Doubt- 


476 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


less  they  would  be  quite  commonplace,  and  hardly  worthy  of 
recital. 

"  'But,  my  boy,  there  is  such  a  thing-  as  too  much,  even 
of  a  good  story — granting-  that  you  consider  this  to  be  one. 
It  is  past  midnight,  and  time  we  were  quitting  our  story-tell- 
ing, so  we  will  say  good  night  to  each  other,  and  an  revoir  to 
the  gallant  Major.' " 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER, 


n. 


the  smoke  ascends — what 

fancies  arise, 
What  visions   of  old  be^ 

wilder  the  eyes — 
What      mem'ries      come 
trooping  out  of  the  past, 
Each  new  one  brighter,  by 

far,  than  the  last! 
See    how    they    glimmer 

and  glow, 
Yet  fade,  tho'  we  love  them  so — 
The  roseate  fancies  that  memory  lends, 
As  the  fragrant  smoke  to  the  skies  ascends, 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER, 


II. 


HILE  waiting-  for  the  doc- 
tor,  I  found    upon  his 
library   table   a   recently 
published  book  by  a  dis- 
tinguished American  physi- 
cian, containing-  a  collection  of 
all  the  evil  thing's  that  litera- 
ture has  had  to  say  of  medical 
men.     The  small  size  of   the 
work  was  very  complimentary 
to  the  medical  profession,  for 
the  author  had  evidently  been 
thoroug-h  and  painstaking-.* 

While  glancing-  throug-h  this 
interesting-  book,  it  occurred  to  me  to  ask  Doctor  Weymouth 
to  say  something-  upon  the  g-eneral  subject  of  the  doctor  in 
literature.  That  my  friend  took  an  interest  in  the  subject 
is  well  shown  bv  his  remarks. 


"  The  doctor  has  always  been  a  favorite  theme  with 
authors,  and  of  recent  years  several  medical  characters  in 
literature  have  been  quite  noteworthy. 

"It  is  probable  that  no  more  beautiful  character  sketch 
has  ever  been  written,  than  that  of  Doctor  William  MacClure 
by  Ian  MacLaren.     In  reading-  this  story,  one  cannot  help 
feeling-  that  the  self-sacrificing-  country  practitioner  has  had 
justice  done  him — for  once. 

*  "  Le  Mai  qu'  on  a  dit  des  Medecins  "  ( Witkoski).    Translated  and  annotated  by 
Dr.  Thos.  C.  Minor. 


482  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Sancho  Panza  remarked,  that  men  were  'as  God  made 
them,  and  sometimes  a  good  deal  worse. '  Doctors  are  as  God 
made  them — or  as  nature  designed  them,  if  you  please — and 
usually  a  great  deal  better. 

44  The  doctor  has  ever  been  a  colossal  figure  in  the  drama 
of  life,  and  among  all  the  strolling  players  who  make  the 
world  their  temporary  stage,  none  have  played  their  part 
better  than  he;  indeed,  the  play  could  hardly  goon  without 
him.  Whether  the  curtain  is  rising  or  falling,  whether  the 
actors  are  coming  or  going,  be  the  play  all  tears  and  sorrow 
or  all  joy  and  laughter,  he  is  the  central  figure. 

44  It  is  by  no  means  remarkable,  therefore,  that  the  giants 
of  literature  have  found  the  doctor  an  ever  fruitful  theme; 
not  only  is  he  indispensable  to  the  legitimate  drama  of  life, 
but  apparently  to  the  comedy  as  well.  Whether  he  be  the 
hero  of  romance  or  the  butt  of  literary  ridicule,  the  doctor's 
make-up  is  always  irreproachable,  and  he  has  never  been 
known  to  forget  his  lines.  When  he  turns  his  own  hand  to 
the  doing  of  romance,  or  even  to  the  creation  of  comedy,  then 
indeed,  do  we  realize  how  much  the  world  of  letters  owes  to 
the  doctor.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  was  a  literary  giant. 

44  The  doctor's  place  in  literature  has  the  flavor  of 
antiquity;  the  warrior  surgeon  of  the  olden  time  was  immor- 
talized by  Homer,  in  his  Patroclus,  who,  according  to  the 
ancient  myth,  shared  with  the  mighty  Achilles  and  with 
Esculapius — our  patron  saint — the  instruction  and  counsel 
of  sage  Chiron,  the  4sire  of  pharmacy.' 

"But  not  all  authors  have  followed  Homer's  example  in 
doing  us  honor.  The  doctor  of  the  comparatively  recent  past, 
was  apparently  the  favorite  target  of  the  humorous  writers 
of  the  day.  4  Medicine,'  said  a  wrriter  of  the  early  part  of  the 
last  century,  4is  a  very  difficult  science,  because  the  theory 
depends  upon  the  understanding,  and  the  practice  on  the 
imagination.  It  is  a  science  founded  upon  conjecture,  and 
full  of  danger  to  the  patient,  for,  as  Plato  says,  "  the  con- 
jectures of  physicians  are  very  uncertain."  Whether  the 
members  of  the  royal  academy  of  undertakers  were  sub- 
poenaed as  witnesses  in  the  case,  deponent  sayeth  not,  but 
this  verdict  was  quite  generally  accepted. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  483 

"  Dryden  was  a  consistent  scorner  of  physic,  as  might 
be  expected  of  so  brilliant  a  mind,  regarding"  a  science  so  un- 
satisfactory as  was  medicine  in  his  day.  He,  like,  many 
others,  believed  in  throwing-  physic  to  the  dog's — providing 
the  dog's  belong-ed  to  his  neighbor.  But  Dryden  asked  too 
much  of  medicine,  as  shown  by  his  lines — 

'Physic  can  but  mend  our  crazy  state, 
Patch  an  old  building-,  not  a  new  create. ' 

"Dryden  was  not  the  only  literary  knig-ht  who  broke  a 
lance  with  the  luckless  disciples  of  Esculapius.  The  re- 
doubtable Ben  Johnson,  Dean  SwTift,  Byron,  Hog-arth,  Tobias 
Smollett  and  a  host  of  others,  lampooned,  caricatured  and 
smote  the  profession,  hip  and  thigh. 

"The  explanation  of  this  animosity  is  in  several  in- 
stances not  difficult.  Lord  Byron's  brain  was  as  clubbed  as 
his  foot.  Hogarth  would  have  caricatured  the  vestal  virgins, 
and  Smollett  was  an  unsuccessful  physician  himself.  Both 
literature  and  medicine  have  cause  for  thanksgiving  in  the 
failure  of  Smollett  to  gain  a  livelihood  by  the  practice  of 
physic.  Smollett  set  the  pace  for  all  professional  failures, 
and  even  unto  this  day,  none  kicketh  so  hard  as  the  disap- 
pointed doctor. 

"It  was  certainly  unbecoming  in  Smollett  to  allude  to  his 
one-time  confreres,  as  'A  class  of  animals  resembling  so 
many  ravens  hovering  over  a  carcass,  and  plying  for  employ- 
ment like  scullers  at  Hungerford  stairs.' 

"Poor  old  Tobias!  Ten  grains  of  calomel  would  have 
removed  the  toxins  from  his  liver,  and  taken  the  taste  of 
those  sour  grapes  from  his  mouth.  There  was  much  of  wit, 
in  the  adventures  of  Peregrine  Pickle,  but  more  of  bilious- 
ness. With  Smollett,  the  best  guesser  was  the  best  physi- 
cian— the  more  power  to  him ! 

"Dean  Swift  gave  the  doctors  credit  for  one  important 
accomplishment.  He  had  much  faith  in  their  prognostic 
ability — in  fatal  cases  :  Said  he,  'Rather  than  be  accused  as 
false  prophets,  they  know  how  to  approve  their  sagacity  by  a 
seasonable  dose.' 


484  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"It  is  sad  to  reflect  that  even  Shakespeare,  had  little 
sympathy  for  the  doctor.  He  said,  '  Trust  not  the  physi- 
cian; his  antidotes  are  poisons.' 

"It  must  be  confessed  that  the  doctor  of  the  olden  time, 
was  an  easy  mark  for  the  critic's  cannon.  He  saw  according 
to  his  lights,  it  is  true;  but  his  vision  was  cut  on  the  bias. 
Accident  taught  him  something-  now  and  then.  Glancing 
back  a  few  decades,  we  find  g-ood  old  Ambroise  Pare — he  of 
immortal  fame,  who  has  been  styled  'the  father  of  French 
surg-ery,'  pouring-  boiling-  oil  into  wounds,  to  purify  them!  It 
so  happened  that,  after  a  great  battle,  he  ran  short  of  oil  and 
used  up  what  little  he  had,  on  the  officers.  When,  like  a  g-ood 
soldier,  he  went  his  rounds  the  next  morning-,  he  found  the 
rank  and  file  very  chipper,  I  thank  you,  while  the  'blooming 
hofficers,'  as  Kipling-  would  say,  were  having-  a  '  bally  time  of 
it' — those  who  had  not  joined  the  silent  majority  during-  the 
nig-ht.  Then  came  some  post  hoc  ergo  propter  hoc,  philoso- 
phizing-, and  surg-ery  took  a  giant  stride  in  advance. 

"The  surg-eon  of  the  olden  time  learned  his  trade  in  the 
butcher  shop,  judging-  by  his  methods.  Lisfranc,  a  surg-eon 
of  the  old  re'gime,  nearly  died  of  a  broken  heart,  after  the 
battle  of  Waterloo.  It  was  not  for  France  that  he  grieved.— 
He  wept  not  for  the  downfall  of  the  hapless  Napoleon.  It 
makes  one's  very  blood  run  cold,  to  hear  his  pitiful  lament — 
'Alas!  there  are  now  no  more  of  those  magnificent  grenadiers 
of  the  Imperial  Guard,  who  had  such  beautiful  thighs  —  to 
amputate.' 

"And  then  the  good  old  man  consoled  his  tortured  spirit, 
by  bleeding  every  occupant  of  the  hospital  to  the  very  verge 
of  the  grave.  Verily,  those  were  the  halcyon  days  of  the 
critic!  He  had  many  victims  for  his  lash,  when,  as  that 
most  illustrious  member  of  our  profession,  the  late  Doctor 
Holmes,  expressed  it,  'mankind  was  afflicted  with  doses  that 
required  three  men  to  take  them;  one  to  take  the  medicine, 
one  to  hold  the  taker,  and  another  to  pour  it  down.' 

"  We,  of  modern  days,  laugh  at  Doctor  Sangrado,  but 
Gil  Bias,  without  him,  would  be  like  the  play  of  Hamlet  with- 
out the  moodv  Dane. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  485 

"Was  Sangrado  overdrawn?  I  wot  not,  my  young-  friend. 
He  was  but  the  prototype  of  men  who  are  to-day  flourishing- 
and  waxing-  fat  in  our  very  midst!  Sangrado's  ever-ready 
lancet  and  hot  water  were  all  well  enoug-h  in  their  way,  but 
what  of  some  of  our  modern  fads? 

"Do  you  wonder  that  medicine  has  been  lampooned? 

"Let  us  yearn  for  the  day  when  the  seeker  for  truth 
shall  find  naug-ht  but  the  g-olden  fruit  of  the  tree  of  rational 
medicine  to  g-aze  upon.  In  that  g-lorious  epoch,  he  who  would 
laug-h  at  medicine,  must  peep  into  the  valley  of  dead  lumber, 
where  he  may  take  his  choice  between  Christian  science,  the 
liver  pad,  and  the  left  hind  foot  of  the  white  rabbit. 

"  It  is  a  striking-  fact  that  most  of  the  doctors  of  modern 
literature  have  been  very  creditable  to  our  profession.  Was 
it  not  Weir  Mitchell  who  said  that  he  was  compelled  to  g-o 
outside  of  his  own  profession  to  find  his  villains?  Holmes 
held  a  similar  opinion.  There  is  much  of  truth  in  this  asser- 
tion. Your  Doctor  Jekyll  must  become  a  layman,  if  he  would 
play  the  villain.  Mr.  Hyde  must  assume  the  burden  of  his 
own  villainy — Doctor  Jekyll  is  a  thing-  apart.  There  is  much 
that  is  instructive  in  this  illustration.  Your  doctor  may  be  a 
villain,  but  once  a  g-ood  doctor,  always  a  g-ood  doctor;  he  must 
drop  the  role  of  doctor,  else  his  villainy  will  be  but  a  poorly 
acted  part. 

"The  elder  Dumas,  in  his  'Memoirs  of  a  Physician,' 
attempted  to  portray  the  villainy  of  a  doctor,  but  he  made  a 
sig-nal  failure.  Joseph  Balsamo  was  a  combination  of  astrolo- 
g-er  and  alchemist,  who  dabbled  chiefly  in  that  black  art  that 
loves  late  hours,  deserted  church  yards,  haunted  castles  and 
all  eerie,  creepy  and  unwholesome  thing's.  The  incantations 
and  mystery  of  Balsamo  were  not  the  arts  of  physic,  but  the 
deviltry  of  the  mountebank  and  charlatan. 

"But  literature  has,  after  all,  done  our  noble  profession 
much  honor.  One  touch  of  realism,  in  certain  phases,  sweeps 
away  the  rubbish  of  a  century  of  criticism,  like  so  much  chaff. 
Wherever  the  milk  of  human  kindness  flows  most  abundantly 
across  the  fair  fields  of  literature,  there  will  you  find  the 
doctor.  Whether  he  be  of  the  g-ig-,  or  saddle-bag's  and 
cross-roads,  or  rides  in  a  stylish  broug-ham  about  the  city 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


streets,  the  doctor  is  always  identified  with  the  hopes,  and 
joys,  and  fears  of  the  human  heart.     He  it  is  who  shares  the 


"HE    ALONE,     KNOWS    WHERE    THE    FAIRIES    KEEP     BABIES    FOR    SALE." 

joys  and  sorrows  of  the  little  children,  those  divining-  ang-els 
whose  keen  perception  sees  the  doctor  as  he  is,  beneath  his 
austere  demeanor  and  professional  dignity.  Do  they  ever 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  487 

doubt  him,  when  he  tells  them  how  he  bought  that  sweet 
little  baby  brother  from  a  man  down  the  road,  and  brought 
him  straight  to  them  because  they  are  his  pets? 

"Never!  And,  when  the  dear  little  pink  blossom  is 
blighted  by  some  affliction  that  even  his  wisdom  cannot 
avert,  the  good,  kind  old  doctor,  is  their  only  consolation. 
He  alone,  knows  where  the  fairies  keep  babies  for  sale,  and 
only  he,  can  promise  to  bring  them  another,  some  day,  to 
replace  the  one  he  brought  and  took  away — the  one  they 
loved  and  lost. 

"Where  is  there  a  grander  character  in  literature,  than 
the  doctor? 

"He  is  a  'skeptic,'  they  say.  Some  critic  has  gone 
farther,  and  said,  '  Scratch  a  doctor's  back  and  you  will  find 
an  infidel.'  Occasionally,  perhaps,  but  you  will  usually  find 
a  man. 

"There  are  hundreds,  aye,  thousands!  of  such  'skeptics' 
and  '  infidels'  wearily  trudging  about  in  this  broad  land, 
sacrificing  their  own  interests  for  those  of  their  fellow  men, 
this  very  moment.  The  storm  that  is  raging  without,  is 
beating  against  many  a  noble  man  who  is  on  an  errand  of 
mercy  to  some  suffering  one,  where  not  the  remotest  pros- 
pect of  a  fee  awaits  him.  The  infidels  and  skeptics  of  the 
profession,  seem  not  to  weary  of  doing  their  own  duty — and  a 
large  part  of  that  of  their  more  saintly  fellow  citizens. 

"Whatever  their  motive  may  be,  whatever  creed  they 
may  hold,  the  doctors  of  this  country,  sacrifice  yearly,  more 
in  time,  skill,  labor,  comfort — yea!  even  life — for  the  benefit 
of  humanity,  than  the  entire  clergy. 

"Glory  to  thee,  oh  Medicine!  for  verily,  this  shall  be 
thine  only  terrestrial  reward. 

"The  doctor  must  build  his  mansion  in  the  skies  at  his 
own  expense,  and  of  such  materials  as  he  may  himself  select. 

"Remember,  all  ye  medical  skeptics,  that  the  solaced 
woes  and  mitigated  sufferings  of  many  thousands,  will  not 
furnish  a  single  golden  brick  for  a  celestial  home.  The 
gratitude  of  unnumbered  millions,  will  not  furnish  one  drop 
of  cooling  dew,  to  assuage  the  agony  of  thine  eternal  punish- 
ment, oh,  thou  infidel! 


488  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Cast  the  search-light  of  criticism  where  you  will,  in 
literature,  and  wherever  you  find  the  true  physician,  there 
also  will  you  find  a  true  man,  kind,  considerate  and  tender- 
hearted, with  eye  on  the  beacon  light  of  progress,  working 
hard  in  the  treadmill  of  toil,  but  ever  mindful  of  the  welfare 
of  humanity.  In  the  sunlight  of  truth,  the  shafts  of  criticism 
can  never  touch  the  body  medical. 

"Let  us  all  do  our  part  in  giving-  literature  examples  of 
the  physician  as  he  is  to-day — a  man  whom  it  is  not  only 
unjust,  but  unsafe  to  lampoon.  We  may  not  all  be  builders 
in  the  temple  of  fame;  we  may  not  all  aspire  to  be  enrolled 
among  the  immortals  of  science,  but  to  every  physician  is 
given  the  privilege  of  being  a  professional  gentleman,  and  of 
rounding  out  his  life  as  best  he  may,  with  the  materials  at  his 
command.  By  doing  our  duty  to  ourselves  and  our  noble 
profession,  we  mould  the  destinies  of  the  doctor  in  the  litera- 
ture of  the  future.  Though  we  may  say  with  the  immortal 
bard  of  Avon — 

'  The  cloud  capped  towers,  the  g-org-eous  palaces, 
The  solemn  temples  ;  the  great  globe  itself, 
Yea,  all  which  it  inherits  shall  dissolve, 
And,  like  an  unsubstantial  pageant  faded, 
Leave  not  a  rack  behind  ;  we  are  such  stuff 
As  dreams  are  made  of,  and  our  little  life, 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep  '- 

"Let  us  still  remember  that  we  owe  a  duty  to  our  pro- 
fession, both  to-day  and  for  the  future. 

"See  here,  young  man,  why  do  you  allow  me  to  ramble 
on  in  this  fashion?  I  must  surely  bore  you. 

"But  it's  your  own  fault.  You  are  too  polite  altogether; 
you  shouldn't  allow  a  garrulous  old  man  to  talk  you  to 
death. 

"The  Major?  Well,  I  thought  it  was  high  time  you 
were  asking  after  him.  He's  not  very  well  this  evening,  I 
thank  you. 

"Let  me  see,  where  was  I? 

"Oh,  yes,  the  sun  had  just  risen  over  the  mountains — an 
important  point,  yet  one  that  has  no  particular  bearing  upon 
the  continuation  of  my  story:" 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  489 

"  Owing-  to  the  pressure  of  professional  duties,  it  was 
some  time  before  I  had  an  opportunity  of  doing-  more  than 
pass  the  time  of  day,  with  the  boys  about  town.  I  had  not 
seen  the  Major,  since  my  first  introduction  to  him.  He  was 
still  celebrating-  his  return  home,  and  as  his  fellow  townsmen 
were  more  than  g-enerous,  he  was  likely  to  remain  in  blissful 
ignorance  of  current  events  for  some  weeks  at  least.  As  the 
scene  of  his  celebration  was  shifted  from  one  saloon  to 
another,  and  I  had  not  been  called  for  some  days  to  repair 
damages  to  any  of  my  fellow  citizens,  inflicted  in  free-for-all 
fig-hts,  the  saloons  were  out  of  my  regular  round  of  calls. 

"One  morning-,  however,  as  I  was  passing-  Mrs.  Waters' 
palatial  abode,  her  little  boy,  Johnny,  came  running1  excitedly 
after  me  : 

"  'Say,  Doc,  hold  up!'  he  cried. 

"I  resented  the  'Doc  '  salutation  from  such  young1  lips, 
but  nevertheless  stopped,  and  waited  for  the  young-ster. 

"  '  Well,  what  is  it, Johnny?'  I  asked. 

"  '  My  Ma  wants  y'u  ter  come  an'  see  one  uv  our  board- 
ers, an'  please  sir,  Ma  thinks  he's  g-ot  'em!' 

"  This  seemed  important,  if  true,  so  I  retraced  my  steps 
and  followed  the  boy  to  the  house. 

"Mrs.  Waters  was  a  business  woman,  and  as  crisp  as 
her  own  piecrust,  so  without  ceremony  I  was  ushered  up- 
stairs and  into  a  little  back  attic  room,  where  I  saw — the 
Major,  or  what  remained  of  the  old  hero. 

"The  boy  was  rig-ht,  the  old  man  did  have  'em — and  he 
had  'em  bad. 

"Poor old  fellow!  he  presented  the  most  pitiful  spectacle 
I  have  ever  seen.  His  eyes  were  no  longer  fishy — his  visions 
would  have  brightened  up  Dick  Deadeye  himself.  They  had 
scared*  the  Major  almost  to  death. 

"Some  people  see  snakes,  but  I'll  wager  that  the  old 
Major  saw  a  modern  reproduction  of  Noah's  Ark — with  not  a 
passenger  missing. 

"Whew!  How  he  did  rear,  and  tear,  and  howl! 

"  The  old  fellow  was  so  tall,  and  his  cot  so  short,  that  in 
his  efforts  to  escape  the  zoological  figments  of  his  imagina- 


490 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


tion,  he  would  have  put  a  professional  contortionist  to  the 
blush. 

"It  was  hard  work  pulling-  the  Major  through  his  illness 
— his  age  had  begun  to  tell  on  him,  and  his  habits  of  life 
hadn't  helped  matters  much.  I  finally,  however,  got  him  on 


"THE  OLD  MAN  DID  HAVE  'EM." 

his  feet  again,  and  if  gratitude  is  fair  compensation  for  work 
well  done,  Major  Merriwether  has  a  large  balance  to  his 
credit  on  my  books. 

"  The  old  man  actually  fell  in  love  with  me,  and,  as  a 
result,  I  afterward  had  abundant  opportunities  to  study  him; 
though  I  will  confess  that  the  Major  was  not  a  hard  subject 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  491 

for  analysis — he  was  an  open  book.  Never  in  my  life,  how- 
ever, have  I  seen  another  such  book.  No  book  of  fairy  tales 
ever  equalled  it.  The  Robinson  Crusoe  of  my  youth  and  the 
Munchausen  of  my  later  years,  hung-  their  heads  for  very 
shame,  in  the  presence  of  Major  Merriwether. 

"My  friend  'Mapes,'  as  I  have  already  told  you,  had 
given  me  some  idea  of  the  old  Major's  popularity,  but  I  did 
not  realize  the  depth  of  affection  that  the  towns-people  had 
for  him,  until  he  became  my  patient.  I  was  obliged  to  have 
daily  bulletins  at  my  tong-ue's  end.  The  boys  were  con- 
stantly asking-  for  information  reg-arding-  the  distinguished 
sufferer.  Nothing-  was  too  g-ood  for  'th'  ole  man,'  and  such 
luxuries  as  the  town  afforded,  were  fairly  lavished  upon 
him. 

"  When  the  old  fellow  was  in  condition  to  receive  visitors, 
he  held  court  in  the  most  approved  fashion — indeed,  he  dem- 
onstrated that  his  European  experience  had  not  been  lost 
upon  him.  And  the  recipient  of  the  honor  accorded  him  by 
his  neig-hbors,  was  by  no  means  unappreciative. 

"  'As  I  have  befo'  had  occasion  to  remark  to  yo',  doctah,' 
said  the  Major,  'the  citizens  of  this  commonwealth  are  quite 
appreciative  of,  ah — people  of  talent  an'  courag-e,  suh.  Such 
qualities,  suh,  are  suah  to  win  in  this  community,  an'  I  pre- 
dict fo'  yo',  a  popularity  almos',  if  not  quite,  equal  to  ma  own, 
suh.' 

"A  few  days  later,  I  received  a  rather  ceremonious  call 
from  a  party  of  our  most  prominent  citizens.  So  ceremonious 
was  it,  that  if  my  friend  'Mapes'  had  not  been  at  the  head  of 
the  deleg-ation,  I  should  have  been  a  trifle  uneasy.  The 
crowd  looked  not  unlike  some  '  notice  ter  quit  this  hyar 
claim'  committees  that  I  had  seen. 

"But  the  errand  of  the  committee  was  both  peaceful  and 
entertaining- : 

"  'Howdy'  do,  Doc?'  said  Jerry,  cordially,  extending-  his 
hand.' 

"  'I  am  quite  well,  I  thank  you,  Jerry,  and  very  g-lad  to 
see  so  many  of  my  fellow  townsmen.  To  what  may  I  at- 
tribute the  honor  of  this  call?  You  certainly  are  not  all 
sick,  are  you?' 


492  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'Oh,  no,  Doc,  we're  feelin'  purty  well,  thankee.  We 
jes'  drapped  in  ter  chin  'bout  ther  Major.' 

"'The  Major!'  I  exclaimed,  somewhat  startled,  'why, 
what's  happened  to  him?  He  was  all  rig-ht  this  morning-!' 

"  'Oh,  thar  aint  nuthin'  happen'd  ter  th'  ole  man.  He's 
er  doin'  bully,  thanks  ter  y'u  knowin'  yer  bizness,  Doc,  an' 
we  boys  '11  remember  thet  ye  done  the  squar'  thing-  by  him, 
y'u  bet. 

"  'But  we've  bin  er  thinkin'  thet  ther  Major  orter  hev 
some  lig-ht  ockerpation,  an' we've  'eluded  thet  we  kin  help  th' 
ole  feller  out.  He's  gittin  too  ole  ter  be  overworkin'  hisself 
like  he  hez  bin,  an'  we  reckon  thet  er  perlit'kal  job  '11  jes' 
erbout  hit  'im  rig-ht.  Aint  thet  so,  boys?' 

"The  boys  winked  solemnly  at  the  ceiling- — bless  their 
rug-g-ed  hearts! — and  'lowed  that  it  was  '  jes'  so.' 

"  'Now,'  said  Jerry,  continuing,  'Sam  Barker,  ther  post- 
master uv  this  ere  town,  is  g-oin'  back  ter  ther  States,  on 
erkount  uv  some  money  whut  his  uncle  left  him,  an  we've  bin 
er  thinkin'  thet  thet  air  job  is  jest  erbout  Maje's  size,  an'  we 
air  g-oin'  ter  make  er  pull  fer  et. 

"  'Uv course,  ther  g-ov'ment  aint  likely  ter  g-o  back  on  his 
fren's  hyar  in  this  ere  town,  but  we  thort  we'd  like  ter  hev 
ther  thing-  kinder  systermatick  like,  an'  g-it  er  stiffkit  uv 
diserbil'ty  frum  y'u.  D'ye  see  ther  pint?' 

"It  was  quite  easy  to  see  Jerry's  points — and  to  feel 
some  of  them — so  I  hastened  to  assure  him  that  it  would  g-ive 
me  great  pleasure  to  assist  in  so  worthy  a  cause. 

"A  few  minutes  later,  armed  with  my  formal  opinion  as 
to  the  necessity  of  rest  and  light  employment  in  the  Major's 
case,  and  loaded  with  a  g-oodly  part  of  the  greatly  depleted 
contents  of  my  demijohn,  my  distinguished  visitors  departed. 

"As  ihey  triumphantly  passed  out  of  the  door,  I  heard 
some  one  say,  'Aint  Doc  jester  bully  boy  with  erg-lass  eye?' ' 


"The  Major  had  been  convalescent  and  about  for  some 
weeks,  when  he  surprised  me  one  evening-  by  calling-  at  my 
humble  quarters. 

"The  old  man  was  evidently  feeling-  pretty  well  satisfied 
with  the  world  in  g-eneral,  and  himself  in  particular.  He 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  493 

fairly  beamed  with  self-satisfaction,  and  I  noted  a  shade  of 
dignity  rather  deeper  than  I  had  yet  observed  upon  his  face. 
His  usually  stony  eyes  were  actually  twinkling-  with  anima- 
tion. His  cheek  was  tinged  with  a  rosy  flush,  which  was  by 
no  means  due  alone  to  blooming  health — for  he  had  evidently 
disobeyed  my  directions,  and  was  on  the  brink  of  a  relapse, 
judging  by  his  pungent  breath. 

"'Good  evening,  Major,'  I  said.     'It  is  evident  that  all 
goes  well  with  thee.     But  why  this  unwonted  hilarity?' 
.  '"  W'y,  suh,  haven't  yo'  heahd  ? ' 

"I  promptly  confessed  my  ignorance  of  the  subject  in 
hand. 

"'Well,  suh,  the  gov'ment  of  this  gre't  an'  glo'ious 
country,  has  tendah'd  me  th'  office  of  pos'mastah  of  this 
thrivin'  city,  suh.  Aftah  due  an'  propah  deliberation,  I  have 
concluded  to  take  it,  suh,  an'  I  have  called  to  accept  yo'  con- 
gratulations, ma  deah  doctah,  an'  to  join  with  yo'  in  con- 
gratulatin'  the  cit'zens  of  this  commonwealth,  on  their  public 
spirit  an'  entahprise,  suh.  As  I  have  befo'  had  occasion  to 
remark,  suh,  this  town  is  a  place  where  intelligence,  execu- 
tive capacity  an'  courage  are  appreciated,  suh. 

"  'It  is  not  nec'sary  to  say  to  yo',  ma  deah  fren',  that  I 
shall  at  all  times  welcome  yo'  at  ma  office,  suh.  Yo'  may  be 
suah,  doctah,  that  the  good  will  of  the  gov'ment  officials  of 
this  town  is  already  spoken  fo',  fo'  ma  physician. 

"  'I  have  called  thus  early,  to  exten'  the  propah  co'tesies 
to  yo',  because  in  the  pressuah  of  official  business,  I  might  fail 
to  show  yo'  the  propah  amount  of  attention.  Yo'  are  ma  best 
fren',  suh,  aftah  ma  fren'  th'  hon'ble  Mistah  Mapleson.  I  am 
free  to  confess,  suh,  that  yo'  education  an'  social  position  are 
such,  that  ouah  relations  are  much  mo'  unconventional  than 
would  be  poss'ble  between  gentlemen  of  less  cultuah  than 
ouahselves,  suh.' 

"I  assured  the  Major,  that  I  not  only  congratulated  him 
upon  the  appreciation  shown  him  by  our  great  commonwealth, 
but  also  upon  the  esteem  in  which  he  was  held  by  his  fellow 
citizens.  I  remarked,  however,  that  the  Government  of  the 
United  States  was  really  the  gainer  by  the  transaction. 


494  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

'"You  know,  Major,'!  said,  'that  public  office  is  often 
trying1  and  laborious.  In  my  opinion,  we  are  most  fortu- 
nate to  have  among1  us  so  distinguished  a  citizen,  who  is  will- 
ing" to  sacrifice  his  own  interests  to  those  of  the  public/ 

"'Yes,'  said  the  Major,  drawing  himself  up  to  as  near 
his  full  height  as  my  ceiling  would  admit,  meanwhile  inflating 
his  chest  until  it  looked  like  a  balloon,  'But,  yo'  see,  ma  deah 
doctah,  somebody  mus'  sacrifice  himself  fo'  the  common- 
wealth, an'  if  men  of  honah  an'  brains  do  not  come  fo'ward, 
what's  to  become  of  our  gre't  an'  glo'ious  country,  suh?" 

"At  this  juncture  I  noticed  that  the  Major's  voice  was 
getting  a  trifle  husky.  I  knew  that  if  I  did  not  provide  a 
remedy  he  would  obtain  it  elsewhere,  and  I  preferred  to 
regulate  both  quality  and  dose,  myself.  Then,  too,  the  oc- 
casion was  one  for  rejoicing.  I  therefore  brought  my  bour- 
bon to  the  front.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  finding  it.  All 
I  had  to  do  was  to  follow  the  Major's  thirsty  glances — which 
had  been  transfixing  that  devoted  demijohn  ever  since  he 
entered  my  shanty. 

"  The  demijohn  was  somewhat  disfigured,  yet  still  pro- 
ductive, when  the  Major  and  I  began  upon  it,  but  it  was  no 
longer  worth  cultivation  when  we  got  through  with  it.  Ye 
gods!  What  a  horrible  drought  the  dear  old  man  had  ac- 
quired during  his  sickness!  For  a  moment  I  felt  a  pang  of 
regret  that  I  had  cured  him  —  that  was  such  awfully  good 
whisky,  and  no  more  of  the  kind  to  be  had  nearer  than  Hen- 
derson county,  Kentucky. 

"But  I  got  the  worth  of  my  liquor  before  the  evening 
was  over. 

"  The  old  Major  soon  got  warmed  up,  and  began  talking 
on  his  favorite  theme — himself. 

"  'Do  yo'  know, doctah,  that  puss'nal  courage,  an'  a  high 
degree  of  intell'gence,  suh,  are  appreciated  all  the  world  ovah  ? 
Now,  in  Kaintucky — ma  native  state,  I'm  mos'  happy  to  say, 
suh — I  had  gre't  trouble  in  preventin'  ma  fellah  cit'zens  from 
sendin'  me  to  Congress.  There  was  no  opposition  wo'th 
mentionin' — I  was  really  the  unan'mous  selection  of  ma  dis- 
trict, suh.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  495 

"'Well,  really,  Major,  you  oug-ht  to  have  embraced  the 
opportunity.  You  might  have  enrolled  your  name  upon  the 
records  of  your  great  state,  along  with  those  of  some  of  our 
most  renowned  statesmen. 

"  '  Henry  Clay,  sir,  is  a  name  which  will  ever  adorn  the 
brightest  pages  of  our  country's  history,  and  with  the  name 
of  Merriwether  side  by  side  with  that  of  her  other  great 
sons,  Kentucky  history  would  have  gained  a  lustre  which 
would  have  made  the  very  sun  grow  pale  and  wan  with  envy. 
Frankly,  you  did  not  do  your  duty. 

"'Well,  to  be  puffec'ly  candid  with  yo',  suh,'  said  the 
Major,  '  such  little  opposition  as  ther'  was,  came  from  certain 
pussons  who  based  their  antag'nism  upon  a  few  little  inci- 
dents in  ma  careah,  \vhich  ma  fren's  thought  'twas  best  not 
to  bring  fo'ward  too  prom'nently. 

"  '  Yo'  see,  suh,  there  was  a  little  feelin'  at  the  time, 
against  the  code  of  honah,  suh,  an'  ma  fren's,  fo'  the  sake  of 
the  cause,  consid'ed  it  unwise  to  risk  bringin'  it  up  as  an 
issue,  suh.  The  cry  of  "fiah  eatah!"  would  have  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  North  in  such  a  mannah  as  to  damage  the 
cause,  suh,  an'  threaten  the  integrity  of  one  of  ouah  mos' 
sacred  institutions,  suh.' 

"  '  I  presume  that  the  opposition  would  have  had  no  great 
amount  of  difficult}"  in  proving  a  case  against  so  gallant  a 
blade  as  yourself,  sir,'  I  said. 

"  'Well,  ah — I  may  say,  suh,  that  there  was  a  little  color 
to  the  cha'ges  of  the  opposition.  Most  of  ma  little  affaihs 
did  not  attract  much  attention — such  little  mattahs  were  so 
common  with  us,  suh.  But  aftah  I  shot  Kunnel  Maxwell, 
suh,  fo'  insultin'  one  of  ma  lad}-  fren's,  there  was  some 
grumblin'.  Yo'  see,  the  Kunnel  \vas  a  very  prom'nent  man, 
an'  his  affaihs  usually  went  the  othah  way.  Ah!  he  was  a 
game  man,  Maxwell  was!' 

"'But  the  crit'cisms  were  not  very  seveah  till  I  cut 
Majah  Cartwright,  suh,  an'  I  mus'  say  that  I  was  in  disfavah 
fo'  some  time  aftahward.  'Twas  claimed  that  the  Majah 
was  too  drunk  to  put  up  a  good  fight,  but  I  can  assuah  yo' 
that  he  was  no  drunkah  than — than  I  am,  suh.' — 


496  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"I  assured  the  Major  that  I  didn't  think  his  antagonist 
could  possibly  have  been  drunker  than  he  was.  Passing 
over  my  satire  with  lordly  disdain,  he  continued: 

"  '  No,  suh,  they  were  wrong,  suh.  The  Majah  was  dead 
game,  suh,  an'  I  still  carry  the  marks  of  his  bowie.  Cut  ma 
lung  clean  thro',  suh!  Howevah,  I  soon  went  into  the  army, 
havin' secured  a  commission  as  Majah,  an'  ma  glo'ious  career 
in  the  Mexican  wah,  soon  blotted  out  the  mem'ry  of  those 
old  time  trifles,  suh.' 

"'I  suppose,  Major,'  I  said,  'that  you  fairly  eclipsed 
yourself  when  you  were  fighting  the  battles  of  our  country.' 

"  '  Well,  I  may  say,  suh,  that  I  did  do  a  little  lightin'.  Ma 
fren'  Gen'ul  Scott,  said,  aftah  the  battle  of  Resaca,  where  I 
was  wounded  in  capturin'  a  batt'ry  with  ma  own  hand,  suh— 
that  I  was  the  gre'test  fightah  in  the  army — a  puffec'  dare 
devil,  suh!' 

"  'With  such  a  record,  sir,'  I  said,  'you  should  have  been 
a  general  of  division  at  the  very  least,  by  the  time  victory 
crowned  our  banners  at  the  close  of  the  war.' 

"Ah,  ma  deah  boy,  so  ma  fren'  Scott  used  to  say!  But 
that  cursed  sense  of  honah  of  mine,  again  proved  an  obstacle, 
suh.  Yo'  see,  I  was  pop'lar  in  the  army,  but  aftah  ma  affaih 
wTith  Kunn'l  Gordon  got  to  the  eahs  of  the  political  fellahs  at 
Washin'ton,  ma  goose  was  cooked,  suh.  To  be  suah,  the 
affaih  was  mos'  hon'able.  The  Kunn'l  died  like  a  gentle- 
man, suh,  an'  he  was  the  aggressah — little  game  of  draw, 
yo'  know,  an'  too  much  liquah  abo'd — but  that  was  not  con- 
sidah'd  by  those  fellahs  at  headquatahs.  'Twas  said  that  it 
was  a  cleah  case  of,  ah — homicide,  suh.  Yo'  see,  I  was  the 
best  so'dsman  in  th'  army,  an'  I  natu'lly  s'lected  the  so'd  to 
settle  the  mattah.  I  remembah  the  Kunn'l's  ga'd  was  dem'd 
po',  an'  I  spitted  him  like  a  turkey,  suh,  but  I,  of  co'se,  sup- 
posed that  he  was  a  so'dsman.' 

"  'But,  Major,  I  am  surprised  that  you  have  not  tendered 
your  sword  to  our  government  in  the  present  crisis — or  are 
you,  perhaps,  in  sympathy  with  the  South,  as  are  many  of 
your  Kentucky  friends?' 

"  '  Well,  ah — '  said  the  Major,  as  he  hurriedly  surrounded 
another  adult  dose  of  my  fast  ebbing  elixir  vita,  'Yo'  see, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  497 

suh,  I  feel  that  I  am  needed  heah  in  this  growin'  community, 
an'  I'm  compelled  to  make  the  sacrifice  of  ma  own  ambitions. 
Then  too,  I'm  in  symp'thy  with  the  Fed'ralgov'ment,  suh,  an' 
I  don't  like  to  embrue  ma  han's  in  the  goah  of  ma  fellah 
cit'zens  of  Kaintucky,  suh,  Besides,  I  have  always  hoped  to 
serve  ma  country  heah  in  the  West,  an'  ma  hopes  have,  as  yo' 
know,  at  las'  been  re'lized.' 

"  '  So,  yo'  see,'  said  the  Major,  with  a  doleful  sigh,  '  I  mus' 
be  resig-ned  to  ma  humble  lot,  an'  not  seek  fo'  mo'  glory  with 
ma  so'd,  suh.  As  I  said  to  the  Shah  of  Persia,  when  he  ten- 
dah'd  me  a  commission  of  General  in  his  army,  suh,  "Duty 
to  ma  fellah  cit'zens,  must  evah  be  above  ma  own  glory  an' 
puss'nal  int'rests,  suh." 

"  k Ah,  my  dear  Major,'  I  said,  'with  a  few  more  such  men 
as  yourself  in  this  country,  the  outcome  of  the  civil  war  would 
not  be  open  to  the  slightest  question.' 

"  '  Yo  flattah  me,  I'm  suah,  suh,  but  I'm  proud  to  b'lieve 
that  yo'  are  sinceah,  tho'  yo'  cert'nly  ovah-estimate  ma  talents, 
suh.  But,  as  I  once  rema'ked  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  "the 
exaggerated,  ah — estimate  of  ouah  deah  fren's,  is  the  mos' 
delicious  sauce  of  existence,  suh." 

"  'Speakin'  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  suh,  do  yo'  know  that 
the  deah  boy  almos'  tern 'ted  me  to  stay  in  Lunnon?  One  of 
the  Kunn'ls  of  the  Royal  horse  was  thrown  from  his  chargah 
an'  killed,  just  at  the  time  I  was -there.  Yo'  see,  Wales  had 
ordahed  a  review  fo'  ma  entahtainment,  an'  while  we  were 
inspectin'  the  troops,  this  Kunn'l  was  thrown  an'  killed  befo' 
ouah  eyes.  Wales  insisted  on  ma  takin'  command  of  the 
regiment  an'  finishin'  the  review.  As  I  happened  to  have  on 
a  full  dress  uniform  of  Kunn'l  of  the  Guards,  which  the  Prince 
had  ordah'd  from  his  own  tailah,  specially  fo'  the  occasion,  I 
fin'lly  consented. 

"  'I  suppose  that  you  covered  yourself  and  our  country 
with  honor  and  glory,  my  dear  Major.  You  certainly  were 
placed  in  a  conspicuous  and  responsible  position.' 

'"Ah — yes,  yo'  may  be  suah.  But  I'm  suah  that  ma 
mil'tary  trainin',  suh,  modest  tho'  it  has  been,  did  not  reflect 
discredit  'pon  ouah  glo'ious  flag,  suh.  The  Prince  rema'ked 
afterward,  that  if  his  officahs  would  onlv  learn  to  ride  like 


498  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

Majah  Merriwethah,  there  would  be  no  mo'  killed  in  the  dis- 
tressin'  mannah  that  his  Kunn'l  of  Guards  was.' 

"  'It  is  no  wonder  the  Prince  wanted  to  keep  you  in  his 
service,'  I  said. 

"  '  Wanted  to  keep  me,  suh !  Well,  suh,  I  had  dem'd  ha'd 
work  gettin'  away  at  all,  suh!  W'y,  that  man  Wales  is  the 
mos'  persistent  fellah  yo'  evah  saw,  suh.' 

"'Well,'  I  cried,  raising-  my  glass,  'England's  loss  is 
California's  gain.  Here's  to  our  new  postmaster!  May  his 
shadow  never  grow  shorter,  nor  his  thirst  thirstier.  May  he 
prove  that  the  cancelling  stamp  is  mightier  than  the  sword—- 
and may  spongy  degeneration  ever  be  the  lot  of  his  gastro- 
intestinal mucous  membrane.  May  his  courag-e  never  grow 
less,  nor  his  kidneys  fail  him.  May  his  liver  be  the  grave  of 
sorrow  and  the  birthplace  of  joy.  May  his  salary  swell  with 
the  passing  of  the  years,  and  his  mustaches  never  grow  flaccid. 
May  he  marry  "the  apple  of  his  eye,"  and  bring  up  in  our 
midst  a  large  and  interesting  family  of  little  majors  and 
majoresses,  with  the  courage,  beauty,  gallantry  and  veracity 
of  their  talented  father!  To  the  most  distinguished  soldier 
of  modern  times;  that  relic  of  a  more  robust  and  chivalric 
age — Major  Merriwether — sir  to  you!' 

"  And  down  went  the  last  of  the  golden  sap  of  Henderson 
County.— 

"Vale,  sweet  nectar!  Thou  wast  my  friend  when  the 
world  was  new!  Thou  didst  lend  a  rosy  glow  to  the  dreams 
of  mine  youthful  ambition — thou  didst  gild  the  mountain  tops 
of  mine  hopes  and  illumine  the  valley  of  my  despair!  Never 
shall  I  look  upon  thy  like  again,  oh  demijohn  of  uncouth  mould 
and  heavenly  contents ! 

"Too  much  sentiment  over  a  jug  of  whisky,  eh?  Well, 
young  man,  you  didn't  know  the  times,  nor  the  difficulty  of 
getting  good  liquor  in  those  days.  And  you  didn't  know  the 
boys,  nor  that  particular  jug  of  whisky,  and — and  you  didn't 
know  the  Major,  nor  me." 


"As  the  old  man  bade  me  good  night,  I  once  more  con- 
gratulated him  upon  his  good  fortune,  and  promised  that  I 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


499 


would  call  upon  him  at  an  early  date  and  enjoy  his  hospitality 
in  his  new  quarters. 

"As  he  staggered  away  into  the  gloom  of  the  night,  I 
said  to  myself — '  Here,  among-  these  bleak  and  rocky  hills,  I 
have  at  last  found  that  rara  art's — a  happy  man?  Oh  lie! 
where  is  thy  sting?  Oh  truth  !  where  is  thy  victory  ?'- 

"And  then  I  went  to  bed,  and  dreamed  that  the  Major 
was  President  of  the  United  States,  and  had  just  appointed 
me  Surgeon-General  of  the  Union  army,  with  a  salary  equal  to 
a  prince's  ransom." 


"  Which  reminds  me,  my  dear  boy,  that  if  either  of  us 
intend  to  do  any  dreaming  to-night,  it  is  high  time  we  parted. 
I  have  much  more  to  tell  you  about  the  Major,  but  we  will 
have  to  put  the  old  man  back  in  his  musty  pigeon-hole  until 
our  next  meeting.  Suppose  we  drink  a  parting  bumper  of 
punch  ?  Let  me  propose  a  toast: 

"  Here's  to  the  gallant  Major  Merriwether  P.  M. ! 

"Good  night." 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER. 


III. 


UAINT  poets  in  the  days 

of  old 
Have  told  in  song  and 

story, 
Their  tales  of  priceless 

gems  and  gold, 
Of    war,    and    martial 

glory, 
But  now  the  blissful  poet 

sings, 

In    ballad    and    ho 
sanna, 


Of  clouds  that  rise  in  fragrant  rings 
From  pipe  or  fine  Havana. 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER, 

III. 


T  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  the 
doctor  was  cross — vexation  is 
rare  with  him,  but  it  always 
shows  upon  his  countenance 
so  plainly  that  he  who  runs 
may  read.  Then,  too,  my 
dear  friend  has  a  habit  of 
expressing-  himself  quite  em- 
phatically at  such  times;  so 
there  is  rarely  any  difficulty 
in  determining"  his  exact  state 
of  mind.  When  he  is  ill- 
natured  there  is  but  one  way 
to  remedy  his  condition — agree  with  him  in  the  view  that 
thing's  are  all  askew,  draw  the  cork  of  his  wrath  bottle,  and 
then  sit  back  and  listen  with  as  much  sympathy  in  your 
expression  as  you  can  muster  up  for  the  occasion.  When  he 
has  finished  firing  his  intellectual  Catling  gun — providing-  he 
hasn't  hit  you  with  some  of  his  random  shots — you  may  safely 
approach  his  majesty  on  almost  any  subject  you  like.  The 
genial  aroma  arising  from  his  hookah  and  the  diffusible  good 
nature  of  the  punch,  will  do  the  rest. 


ik  Well,  if  I  haven't  had  a  day  of  it!  It  seems  to  me  that 
every  blessed  fool  that  happens  to  be  enrolled  on  my  list  of 
patients,  has  taken  a  notion  to  be  sick  to-day.  The  weather 
is  execrable,  and  slopping  around  in  the  snow  and  slush  is 
not  the  most  agreeable  task  in  the  world,  I  can  tell  you! 

"  '  Beautiful  snow/  forsooth !  Do  you  know,  my  boy,  that 
snow  reminds  me  of  human  character?  It's  such  a  beautiful 


506  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

thing-  to  study  att  naturel,  but  when  it  is  contaminated  with 
worldly  dross  and  dirt,  it  is  vileness  itself.  I  wonder  if  the 
angels,  that  are  said  to  live  up  yonder  somewhere,  could 
endure  the  earth  much  better  than  the  snowflakes  do.  Pos- 
sibly the  snowflakes  are  used  by  the  ang-els  very  much  as  a 
sounding-  line  is  used  by  mariners.  If  the  plummet  gets 
mud  on  it,  the  navig-ator  strikes  a  lively  g-ait  for  deep  water. 
It  would  be  interesting-  to  know  what  the  navig-ators  of  the 
skies — if  there  are  any — have  to  say  about  to-day's  sounding's. 

"I  don't  wonder  that  most  doctors  look  like  worn-out 
hacks.  And  it's  not  all  weather  that  worries  'em  either. 
The  inequalities,  eccentricities — yea,  and  the  cussedness  of 
human  nature,  beat  any  sort  of  wreather  I  ever  expect  to  meet 
in  this  world,  and  if  there's  any  worse — hot  or  cold — in  the 
world  which  the  g-ood  folks  say  lies  beyond — 

"  Well,  I'm  not  going-  to  practice  medicine  over  there,  any- 
how, so  I  g-uessl  can  stand  almost  anything-.  I  can  face  some 
of  my  old  patients  with  a  little  more  sangfroid  if  I'm  a  gentle- 
man  of  leisure  and  not  a  medical  drudg-e,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Styx. 

"It  seems  to  me  that  the  meanness  and  stupidity  of 
patient — or  more  properly,  impatient — human  nature,  runs 
in  streaks. 

"At  my  first  call  this  morning-,  I  found  an  old  woman, 
who  has  bothered  me  just  often  enoug-h  to  call  herself  my 
patient — save  the  mark — doubled  up  with  a  terrific  intestinal 
colic.  On  inquiry,  she  said  she  had  been  sick  for  a  week. 

"  'Why  did  you  not  call  me  earlier?'!  asked,  impatiently. 
4  You  mig-ht  at  least  have  selected  better  weather  and  a  time 
more  suited  to  my  convenience,  to  send  for  me!' 

"  '  Oh,  well,  ye  see,  doctor,'  she  replied  between  groans,  I 
didn't  think  it  'mounted  ter  much.  I  thought  I  could  break 
it  up  with  some  simple  home  rem'dies.  But  I've  kep'  er 
g-rowin'  wrorse  an'  worse,  an'  I  made  up  my  mind  this  mornin' 
that  I'd  have  to  have  er  doctor.' 

"  '  Well,  madam,'  I  said,  '  I'm  very  glad  that  you  have  con- 
cluded to  have  a  physician,  although  I'm  inclined  to  quarrel 
with  your  selection,  as  there  are  plenty  of  good  doctors  who 
live  near  you.  What  have  you  been  taking?'  I  inquired. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  507 

"  4Oh,I  haint  taken  anvthin'  much.  You  see,  our  med'cine 
chest  was  nearly  empty,  an'  Maria  had  lost  Doctor  Quackem's 
fam'ly  med'cine  guide,  so  I  had  ter  get  along-  with  what  few 
things  Missus  Thompson,  who  lives  next  door,  happened  ter 
have  by  her.' 

"  '  Yes,  yes,  my  dear  madam !  but  will  you  kindly  enum- 
erate the  various  simples  you  have  taken.' 

"  '  Oh,  well,  ye  see  I'd  been  takin'  Uosem's  Sars'prilla  fer 
my  blood  fer  sev'ral  weeks,  an'  I  thought  I  ought  ter  have 
somethin'ter  act  on  my  liver,  sol  took  about  six  er  Purgem's 
pills.  They  didn't  act  well,  so  Missus  Thompson  said  I  mus' 
work  'em  off  with  er  dose  er  salts  an'  seeny,  but  after  all,  I 
had  ter  take  two  big  spoonfuls  er  castor  ile,  an'  I  think  that 
rather  upsot  my  stomach,  for  I  haint  been  able  ter  eat  any- 
thin'  much  but  some  potato  salad  an'  sausages  with  er  little 
cabbage,  fer  sev'ral  days.  I  got  so  weak  that  my  husband 
had  ter  jest  make  me  take  some  whisky  toddy,  an'  I've  kep' 
that  down  pretty  well.  When  the  pain  come  on,  I  don't  know 
what  I'd  er  done  if  Ezra  hadn't  got  me  some  Jerry's  pain 
killer  from  ther  drug  store.  Even  that  didn't  do  much  good 
an'  I  fin'lly  had  ter  take  some  pep'mint  and  paregoric,  but  it 
haint  helped  me  much,  an'  I'm  afraid  I've  tuck  on  inflam- 
mation.' 

"  '  Excuse  me,  madam,'  I  said,  after  quieting  her  with  a 
hypodermic,  '  but  what  is  your  age  ? ' 

"  '  Fifty  years  old  ther  first  of  las'  month,'  she  replied. 

"  fAnd  how7  long  have  you  lived  in  the  city?'  I  asked. 

"  '  Why,  doctor,  I've  lived  here  fer  twenty-five  years,'  she 
replied.— 

"Oh,  drivelling  imbecility,  fat-headed  stupidity  and 
infinite  cussedness  of  humanity!  'Age  cannot  wither,  nor 
custom  stale,  thine  infinite  variety!' 

"  And  so  the  world  has  merrily  wagged,  all  the  livelong 
day. 

"  Ah,  my  boy!  What  were  life  without  this  hookah  and 
my  tobacco?  Really,  I  commence  to  feel  quite  sociable  again. 
I  don't  believe  I  could  grumble  any  more  if  I  tried. 

"The  punch  seems  better  than  usual  to-night,  doesn't  it? 
It  is  like  that  famous  wine  of  Montebello,  that  contained  the 


508  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

imprisoned  smiles  of  all  the  beautiful  peasant  g-irls  of  sunny 
France. 

"  Which  reminds  me  that  our  parting-  bumper  at  our  last 
meeting-  was  drunk  to  the  g-allant  Major. 

"  '  Um — where  were  we  ?  Oh  yes,  we  had  just  celebrated 
the  old  man's  appointment  as  postmaster." 


"  Althoug-h  the  post-office  was  but  a  short  distance  away 
and  the  Major  was  now  my  near  neighbor,  it  was  several  days 
before  I  saw  him  within  hailing-  distance.  The  weekly  stage 
was  not  yet  due,  hence  no  letters  could  arrive  and  there  was 
no  occasion  to  inquire  for  any.  For  a  wonder,  the  old  hero 
had  kept  pretty  sober  since  my  demijohn  ran  dry — possibly 
because  my  liquor  had  given  him  such  an  aristocratic  taste 
that  the  plebeian  'bug-juice  '  of  the  town  no  longer  tempted 
him  as  of  yore.  At  any  rate,  the  boys  said  that  his  drinking 
had  been  quite  moderate  since  he  entered  upon  his  duties  as 
postmaster.  To  be  sure,  his  temperance  streak  was  destined 
to  be  short-lived,  but  we  must  give  the  old  man  credit  for  even 
his  temporary  sobriety. 

"  One  beautiful  morning,  after  having  made  a  few  calls — 
which  were  all  I  had  planned  for  the  day — I  bethought  me  of 
the  Major.  Being  curious  to  see  more  of  the  old  fellow,  and 
anxious  to  learn  how  his  new  environment  had  affected  him,  I 
resolved  to  make  a  formal  visit  to  the  post-office. 

"I  found  the  old  man  seated  in  front  of  the  crazy-looking 
set  of  pigeon-holes  that  constituted  the  post-office  part  of 
the  furniture,  surrounded  by  a  number  of  his  friends  and 
admirers,  to  whom  he  was  relating  some  of  his  European 
experiences,  his  audience  meanwhile  listening  as  sedately  as 
a  lot  of  old  owls.  Their  solemn  visages,  however,  did  not  fit 
their  ocular  expressions,  for  it  seemed  as  though  each  one 
was  trying  to  out-wink  the  other. 

"As  I  entered  the  majestic  presence  of  the  postmaster, 
he  was  in  the  midst  of  a  peroration  descriptive  of  a  thrilling 
incident  that  occurred  at  a  bear  hunt,  to  which  he  had  been 
invited  by  the  Czar  of  Russia  during  his  European  tour. 

"  '  Yes,  gentlemen,  the  Czar  often  said  aftahwa'd,  that  if 
it  hadn't  been  fo'  me,  the  throne  of  Russia  would  have  been 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


509 


vacant.  I  assuah  yo',  subs,  that  the  battle  was  a  royal  one. 
Fo'  a  moment,  I  was  in  a  very  per'lous  position,  suhs.  Ma 
rifle  missed  fiah,  but  ma  trusty  bowie— Well,  I  declah,  heah's 
ma  deah  f ren',  the  doctah !  Yo'll  excuse  me,  ma  fellah  cit'zens, 


"FO'    A    MOMENT,    I    WAS    IN    A    VEKV    PKK'l.OUS    POSITION.    SUBS.' 

I'm  suah.     W'y,  ma  deah  doctah,  how  d'  yo'  do?     I'm  cha'med 
to  see  yo'  at  ma  office,  suh !' 

"After  assuring-  the  Major  that  the  honor  and  pleasure 
were  entirely  mine,  I  joined  the  party,  and  became  an 
interested  listener  to  the  recital  of  the  g-allant  postmaster's 
European  adventures,  for  the  remainder  of  the  evening-. 


510  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"The  old  man  apparently  forgot  his  rescue  of  the  Czar 
of  all  the  Russias,  but  he  by  no  means  ran  short  of  material 
—indeed,  he  took  the  floor  and  kept  it,  no  effort  being-  neces- 
sary to  draw  him  out. 

"  That  the  old  Major  was  the  prince  of  entertainers,  was 

never  disputed  in  the  town  of  E ,  but  on  this  occasion  he 

fairly  outdid  himself.  Several  of  the  boys  endeavored  for 
some  time  to  get  a  word  in  edgewise,  but  without  avail,  until 
the  Major  stopped  for  breath,  when  Charley  Mason  got  the 
floor  and  began  a  description  of  a  bull-fight  he  had  once  wit- 
nessed in  the  City  of  Mexico,  which,  to  his  mind,  appeared  to 
compare  very  favorably  with  some  of  the  Major's  wonderful 
experiences. 

"'But,  uv  course,'  said  he,  'ther  Major  hez  never  hed 
ther  chance  ter  see  er  bull-fight,  seein'  ez  how  when  he  wuz 
in  Mexico  'long  with  Gineral  Scott,  he  wuz  too  busy  killin' 
greasers,  ter  waste  his  time  watchin'  bull-fights.  Ennyhow, 
by  ther  time  ther  Major  got  through  killin1  'em,  thar  wuzn't 
Mexicans  'nuff  left  whar  he  wuz,  ter  git  up  er  fust  class 
chicken-fight,  ter  say  nuthin'  uv  er  bull-fight.' 

"The  Major  accepted  this  rather  fulsome  tribute  to  his 
valor,  with  his  usual  modesty,  but  immediately  took  exception 
to  the  introduction  of  a  Mexican  bull-fight  as  a  competitor  of 
his  European  adventures. 

"  'Ma  fren  Charles  is  very  kind  to  mention  ma  exploits 
in  Mexico,  I'm  suah.  I  mus'  say,  howevah,  that  I'm  surprised, 
suhs,  that  he  has  been  so  impressed  with  the  crude  methods 
of  bull-fightin'  prev'lent  in  Mexico.  W'y,  suhs,  there's  no 
compa'ison  between  the  prim'tive  enta'tainmentsof  the  Mex- 
icans an'  those  of,  ah-  what  may  be  termed  the  parent 
country — Spain,  the  land  of  Ferd'nan'  an'  Is'bella.  Ah, 
gentlemen!  I  wish  that  yo'  might  witness  the  magnif'cent 
spectacle  presented  by  a  Spanish  bull-fight.  W'y,  suhs,  if  it 
were  not  fo'  fatiguin'  yo'  all,  I'd  tell  yo'of  an  experience  that' 
—and  with  a  fine  show  of  diffidence  he  paused. 

"  There  was  a  general  cry  of  '  Go  on,  Maje,  let's  hev  ther 
yarn!'  so,  after  a  preliminary  round  of  drinks,  he  cleared  his 
ever-husky  throat,  and  began: 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  511 

"  '  Well,  suhs,  there's  not  much  to  tell  yo'  all.  Yo'  see, 
the  Duke  of,  ah — Aconcagua,  whom  I  met  at  a  reception  given 
by  th'  American  Consul  at  Madrid,  happened  to  take  quite  a 
fancy  to  yo1  humble  servant,  suhs,  an'  did  me  the  honah  of 
permittin'  me  to  dine  him,  a  few  days  latah,  at  ma  hotel. 
Durin'  the  dinnah — which  comprised  fo'teen  co'ses  an'  was 
tha'  fo'  quite  prolonged — the  Duke  had  the  oppa'tunity  of 
cultivatin'  ma  'quaintance,  an'  I  can  assuah  yo'  suhs,  that  he 
took  advantage  of  it. 

"  'At  the  close  of  the  repas'.  His  Highness  expressed  his 
delight  in  makin'  ma  'quaintance,  an'  invited  me  to  visit  him 
the  followin'  week,  at  his  estate  a  few  miles  from  Madrid.  "  I 
can't  do  yo'  justice,  I'm  quite  suah,  ma  deah  Majah,"  said  he, 
"  but  I  shall  be  cha'med  to  give  yo'  such  modest  enta'tainment 
as  ma  humble  oppa'tunities  will  permit." 

•''Although  ma  social  engagements  were  very  pressin', 
I  accepted  the  Duke's  kind  invitation,  suhs,  an'  at  th' 
appointed  time  was  on  hand,  sev'ral  of  the  nobil'ty  of  the 
Spanish  Court, who  had  also  been  invited,  accompanyin'  me  to 
the  Duke's  chateau. 

"'The  Duke  kep'  me  in  a  whirl  of  pleasuah  fo'  sev'ral 
days,  an'  I  can  assuah  yo',  suhs,  that  I  had  ha'd  wo'k  to  tear 
ma  self  away. 

"  Among  othah  things  the  Duke  provided  fo'  ma  enta'tain- 
ment, was  a  bull-fight,  conducted  in  reg'lar  Spanish  fashion. 
The  flowah  of  the  Spanish  chivalry,  an'  the  mos'  beautiful 
women  of  the  country  'roun',  were  invited  to  the  fete  fo'  the 
special  pu'pose  of  meetin'  me,  suhs. 

*''Ah,  ma  fren's!'  said  the  Major,  with  a  prodigious 
sigh,  '  that  was  a  day  to  be  ma'ked  with  a  white  stone — nevah 
in  ma  life  have  I  witnessed  such  a  sight  as  was  presented  by 
those  grandees  an'  faih  ladies  of  Ole  Spain.  An'  nevah  shall 
I  forget  that  bull-fight,  suhs! 

u  'I  can  assuah  yo',  gentlemen,  that  yo'  all  can't  imagine 
how  interestin'  the  bull-fightin'  was.  What  with  the  gay  cos- 
tumes of  the  ladies  an'  the  pictu'esque  garb  of  the  actahs  in 
that  thrillin'  scene,  it  was  an  occasion  evah  toberememba'ed. 

"  'I  wish  I  could  pictuah  to  yo'  all,  th'  excitin'  scenes  of 
that  magnif'cent  display.  Seven  hawses  an'  fo'  men  killed, 


512  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

suhs,  an'  three  milk-white  Andalusian  bulls  slain!  Jus'  think 
of  it!' 

"'I  beg-  pardon,  Major,'  I  said,  'but  did  you  say  milk- 
white  bulls?' 

"  '  Precisely  so,  suh,  milk-white  bulls,  each  of  which  was 
wo'th  at  least  a  thousand  dollars,  suh  ! ' 

"'Ma  compassion  was  tin'lly  touched  by  the  sight  of 
those  magnif'cent  an'mals,  with  their  snowy  hides  all  flecked 
with  goah,  an',  desi'ous  of  checkin'  such  a  waste  of  those 
kingly  creatuahs,  I  waved  ma  han'  at  the  Duke,  who  was  him- 
self pa'ticipatin'  in  the  fightin' — an'  a  royal  fightah  he  was, 
suhs — an'  as  soon  as  I  succeeded  in  attractin'  his  attention,  I 
said  that  I  was  fatigued  an'  would  considah  it  a  gre't  favah  if 
he  would  terminate  the  enta'tainment.  It  was  plain  to  be 
seen  that  the  grandees  were  in  favah  of  proceedin',  but  the 
Duke  paid  no  attention  to  them,  an'  immediately  concluded 
the  exhibition  by  invitin'  me  into  th'  arena  an'  publickly 
introducin'  me  to  his  distinguished  guests.  Yo'  nevah  saw 
such  an  ovation,  suhs,  as  I  received  when  they  heard  ma 
name!  How  small  the  wo'ld  is,  aftah  all!  One's  reputation 
is  not  bounded  by  geograph'cal  lim'tations,  yo'  may  be  suah.' 

k"I  presume,  Major,'  I  said,  'that  you  made  a  very 
careful  study  of  the  Spanish  method  of  bull-fighting1,  while 
you  were  participating  in  that  magnificent^/^.' 

"  'Well,  ma  deah  doctah,  I  mus'  say  that  I  did,  suh,  an' 
the  ideah  has  occurred  to  me  that  I  may  be  able  to  arrange 
mattahs  so  that  ma  fellah  cit'zens  can  get  the  ben'fit  of  my 
expe'ience,  suh.' 

'"In  what  way,  Major ? '  I  asked. 

"  'Well,  suh,  I  was  thinkin'  that  if  the  boys  could  get  a 
bull  that  would  be  sufficiently  feahce,  I  might  demonstrate 
the,  ah — Spanish  method  of  bull-fightin',  in  such  a  mannah  as 
to  affo'd  enta'tainment  an'  instruction  to  ma  fellah  cit'zens, 
suh.  I  have  the  propah  costume  an'  other  appu't'nances  fo' 
the  affaih,  an'  I  can  assuah  yo'  all,  that  I  shall  be  mos'  happy 
to  employ  ma  feeble  talents  fo'  the  enta'tainment  of  ma  fren's.' 

"'W'y,'  said  Charley  Mason,  'nuthin'  could  be  easier. 
Ef  yore  in  dead  earnes',  Maje,  we  kin  fix  ye  out  in  gre't 
shape.  Et's  easy  'nuff  ter  git  er  bull,  an  I  reckon  we  kin  git 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


513 


one  thet  ud  hook  yer  ole  Andylusyuns  off 'n  the  earth.  Uv 
course  ye  wants  er  savidge  cuss;  them  Spanish  fellers  kin 
afford  ter  fool  erway  the'r  time  on  them  kittenish  white 
cattle,  but  er  man  uv  yore  brav'ry,  wants  suthin'  jest  about 
right  in  the  fightin'  line.  Aint  thet  so,  boys?' 

"The  boys  emphatically  agree.d  that  it  was  so,  and 
appeared  delighted  with  the  prospect  of  a  genuine  Spanish 
bull-fight. 

"  'I  would  suggest, 
Major,'  I  said,  'that 
your  exhibition  ought 
to  be  given  upon  a 
prominent  holiday. 
Now,  the  Fourth  of 
July  is  almost  here, 
and  nothing  could  be 
more  fitting  and  patri- 
otic, than  to  celebrate 
Independence  Day  by 
a  grand  fete,  which 
shall  comprise  among 
other  things,  a  genuine 
Spanish  bull-fight.  I 
will  confer  with  our 
mutual  friend,  Mapes, 
to-morrow,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  that  he  will 
not  only  give  us  the 
benefit  of  his  counsel, 
but  will  also  be  de- 
lighted to  co-operate 
with  us.  Indeed,  if  Jerry  will  kindly  consent  to  assume  the 
direction  of  the  affair,  I  believe  that  its  success  will  be  as- 
sured.' 

"  k  W'y,  ma  deah  doctah,  yo'  are,  as  usual,  wise  an'  mos' 
discriminating  an'  I  think,  suh,  that  yo'  suggestion  is  mos' 
timely.  If,  as  yo'  so  kindly  propose,  yo'  will  see  Mistah 
Mapleson,  I  shall  be  gre'tly  obliged  to  yo',  suh.  Yo'  prop'si- 
tion  to  have  the  affaih  on  the  glorious  Fo'th,  is  a  mos'  delicate 


FROM    ANDALUSIA. 


514  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

compliment,  suh,  an'  I  assuah  yo'  that  I  shall  do  ma  part  to 
make  the  occasion  wo'thy  of  the  day.' 

"After  a  few  more  liquid  salutes,  the  Major  having-  mean- 
while explained  the  intricacies  of  our  postal  system  to  me, 
and  assured  me  that  my  postal  business  would  receive  his 
personal  attention,  the  company  broke  up. 

"I  conferred  with  my  friend  Jerry,  the  following-  day, 
and  to  say  that  he  was  wildly  enthusiastic  over  the  proposed 
Fourth  of  July  celebration,  would  be  putting-  it  mildly. 

"  '  W'y,  Doc,'  he  said,  '  thet's  ther  g-re'tes'  scheme  I  ever 
heerd  on!  We'll  hev  er  show  thet'll  make  them  fellers  down 
et  Placerville,  eat  the'r  d — d  hearts  out  with  jealersy!  Er 
g-enooine  Spanish  bull-fig-ht!  Wall,  by  the  eternal!  Ef  we 
don't  show  'em  er  fig-ht  thet'll  put  ther  Spanishers  the'rselves 
ter  sleep,  ter  say  nuthin'  'bout  par'lyzin'  ther  greasers,  I'll 
jest  eat  my  hat!' 

"Jerry  cheerfully  assumed  the  entire  charg-e  of  the 
forthcoming-  event,  for  which  I  was  not  at  all  sorry,  as  bull- 
lig-hting-  was  a  little  out  of  my  latitude.  My  versatility  did 
not  extend  quite  so  far. 

"About  a  week  later,  as  I  was  returning-  from  a  call  upon 
a  sick  miner  that  had  taken  me  the  better  part  of  the  day— 
for  the  poor  devil  lived  at  a  little  mining-  camp  some  miles 

from  E ,  I  met  Jerry,  riding-  leisurely  along-  on  his  toug-h 

little  mustang-.  He  was  chuckling-  to  himself  over  something- 
or  other  which  seemed  to  please  him  immensely,  and  would 
have  ridden  by  me  without  speaking-,  so  preoccupied  was  he, 
had  I  not  hailed  him. 

"  '  Hallo  there,  Jerry !'  I  cried.  'Don't  keep  the  joke  all 
to  yourself!  Let  an  old  friend  in  on  it,  won't  you?' 

"At  this,  Jerry  broke  out  in  a  hearty  g-uffaw.  Recogniz- 
ing- me,  he  replied:  'Hello  thar,  Doc!  I'm  g-lad  ter  see  ye. 
Uv  course  yer  in  on  ther  joke.  I  wuz  jest  er  thinkin'  'bout 
ther  bull-fig-ht  we're  g-oin'  ter  hev  nex'  week,  an'  ther  prac- 
ticin'  ther  Major  wuz  doin'  this  arternoon.' 

"  ' Practicing-,  Jerry,  what  do  you  mean?' 

"'Wall,'  said  he,  "twuzn't  jes'  zackly  practicin'  uv  er 
bull-fig-ht,  but  he  wuz  gittin'  his  hand  in  on  ther  brav'ry  biz- 
ness  in  g-re't  shape,  I  kin  tell  yer.  Yer  see,  th'  ole  man  hed 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  515 

gone  ercross  ter  Bill  Hewlett's  ter  git  his  regular  bracer, 
wich,  'cordin'  ter  Bill,  is  needed  'bout  ev'ry  half  hour  durin' 
ther  Major's  bizness  hours.  While  he  wuz  in  ther  saloon, 
some  uv  us  boys  happened  ter  be  goin'  by  ther  post-offis,  an' 
seed  some  smoke  comin'  out  er  ther  place.  We  wuz  jes' 
goin'  ter  rush  in  an'  Vestigate,  when  ole  Maje  come  er  long, 
he  hevin'  swallered  his  licker  purty  prompt.  He  saw  ther 
smoke,  an'  ther  crowd  uv  us  fellers  er  rushin'  to'ards  ther 
door  uv  ther  post-offis,  an'  took  ther  thing-  in  ter  wunst. 

"  '  Rushin'  up  t'  us  boys,  he  yelled,  "  Excuse  me,  suhs, 
stan'  where  yo'  are!  Don't  move  a  step,  fo'  Gawd's  sake! 
Wait  fo' me!*  Wait  fo' me!" 

'"With  thet,  th'  ole  feller  bolted  through  ther  door,  an' 
shet  et  arter  hisself. 

"  '  We  fellers  didn't  know  whut  ther  devil  ter  do.  We 
s'posed  ther  guv'ment  hed  some  fancy  rules  erbout  post-offis 
bizness  whut  we  didn't  understan',  but  we  wuz  oneasy  'bout 
ther  Major,  fer  ther  smoke  wuz  now  porin'  out  purty  strong. 
We  waited  er  few  minutes  more,  an'  wuz  jest  erbout  ter  bust 
ther  door  in,  when  who  should  come  eroun'  the  corner  uv 
ther  guv'ment  shanty,  but  ther  Major! 

"  '  Yer  jes'  orter  seed  th'  ole  duffer !  He  wuz  dressed  in 
er  glarin'  red  fireman's  unerform  whut  he  hed  bro't  with  him 
frum  Europe,  an'  er  hemlet  thet  looked  like  the  roof  uv  er 
'dobe  house.  Strung  ercrost  his  breast  wuz  ev'ry  d — d 
medal  he's  got!  He  hed  went  through  ther  post-offis  inter 
ther  little  extenshun  in  ther  rear,  whar  he's  bin  campin'  out 
since  his  appintment,  dressed  hisself  in  ther  "propah  cos- 
tume," an'  come  back  ter  fight  ther  fire! 

'"Come  on,  suhs!"  sez  he,  "an'  let's  extinguish  this 
conflagration!  Ouah  country  expec's  ev'ry  man  to  do  his 
duty!" 

"  'An'  then  th'  ole  man  stood  bravely  by  ther  door  while 
we  boys  went  in  an'  kerried  out  er  bar'l  uv  ole  rubbish,  whut 
he  hed  knocked  th'  ashes  off  n  his  pipe  inter,  jest  afore  he 
went  arter  his  be v 'ridge. 

'"I  tell  ye  whut,  Doc,  if  th'  ole  Major  fights  bulls  the 
way  he  fit  thet  fire,  thar  won't  be  'nuff  steers  in  ther  hull 
diggin's  ter  give  him  animiles  'nuff  ter  work  on.' 


516 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"Between  our  hearty  laughter  and  the  dust  of  the  road, 
Jerry  and  I  managed  to  get  our  throats  in  such  condition  that 
I  was  obliged  to  suggest  liquidation,  and  as  neither  of  us  had 


"OUAH    COUNTRY    EX  PEC 'S    EV'RY  MAN 
TO   DO    HIS   DUTY.  ' ' 

any  liquor  just  then — I  had  exhausted 

my  flask  on  the  road — Jerry  allowed 

that  his  journey  was  not  very  important  and  rode  back  to 

town  with  me.     We  found  the  necessary  medicine  at   the 

Minerva,  and  while  discussing  it,  Mapes  unfolded  his  plans 

for  the  coming  bull-fight. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  517 

"'I  tell  ye  whut,  Doc,'  said  he,  'we've  got  a  ole  black 
steer  thet'll  jes'  make  yer  ha'r  curl!  He's  th'  ugliest  ole 
Mexican  devil  thet  ever  ye  seed.  Ther  greaser  whut  got  'im 
fer  me,  sez  he's  hooked  ev'ry  d — d  thing-  off'n  th'  ranch  whar 
he  lassoed  'im.  Ther  boys  hev  got  him  corraled  up  hyar  er 
piece,  an'  they  go  up  thar  ev'ry  day  an'  tease  th'  ole  chap  till 
he  froths  et  ther  mouth  an'  ta'rs  up  ther  groun'  like  er 
reg'lar  hurrykane.  Oh,  he's  er  bute,  he  is!  I  reckon  ther 
Major'll  think  he's  ther  ekal  uv  enny  o'  them  milk-white  An- 
dylusyers.  Ther  Major  sez  we'd  orter  hev  er  good  big  place 
fer  ther  fight,  so'z  ter  giv'  'im  er  chance  ter  ev'lute  'roun', 
an'  give  ther  crowd  er  show  fer  the'r  white  alley.  I  guess 
th'  ole  man's  right,  too,  though  he  haint  seed  thet  steer  yit. 
We  want  ter  'sprize  him,  ye  know,  on  ther  day  uv  ther  fight.' 

"'I  have  no  doubt  that  he  will  be  both  surprised  and 
delighted  by  your  selection  of  a  foeman  worthy  of  his  steel,'  I 
said.  'And,  by  the  way,  Jerry,  permit  me  to  suggest  that  in 
case  some  accident  should  happen  and — well,  you  see,  my 
friend,  even  the  best  professional  torreadors  and  matadores 
in  the  world,  are  occasionally  over-matched,  and  I  should  be 
sorry  to  see  anything  happen  to  the  dear  old  Major.' 

"'Wall,  Doc,'  he  replied,  with  a  grin,  'I  thort  er  thet, 
myself.  Uv  course,  thet  steer  won't  last  longer'n  er  clean 
shirt  when  th'  ole  Major  gits  arter  him,  but  I  kinder  thort 
thet,  seein'  ez  how  his  boss  might  slip,  'twould  be  ez  well  ter 
be  kinder  prepared  like.  I  hev  posted  ther  boys,  an'  some 
uv  'em  whut  kin  shoot  purty  smooth,  '11  hev  the'r  rifles  handy, 
an'  all  on  us  '11  hev  our  six-shooters  slung  onter  us,  same  ez 
ev'ry  day.  Thar'll  be  some  chances,  uv  course,  but  I  don't 
reckon  ther  Major  '11  'low  his  brav'ry  ter  run  erway  with  him 
—ther  hoss  is  more  likely  ter,  an'  he's  no  racer  et  thet.' 

"  With  a  parting  bumper  and  a  promise  to  be  on  hand  on 
the  Fourth,  I  left  for  home.  As  I  was  mounting  my  horse, 
Jerry  called  out,  'Say,  Doc,  ez  yore  comin'  ter  ther  bull-fight 
ennyhow,  yer  might  ez  well  slip  er  few  bandages  an'  things 
in  yer  pocket — in  case  ther  hoss  gits  hurted  ye  know!'  " 


"The  Fourth  of  July  dawned  bright  and  beautiful,  as 
was  proper  and  in  keeping  with  a  good  story.    It  was  evident 


518  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

that  the  star  attraction  of  our  celebration  would  not  require 
postponement  on  account  of  the  weather.  The  birds  never 
sang"  more  sweetly  nor  were  the  clouds  ever  fleecier,  as  thev 
floated  over  those  glorious  mountain  peaks  that  walled  us  in 
like  grim,  snow-capped  sentinels.  There  was  just  breeze 
enough  blowing-  to  give  a  zest  to  the  cool  mountain  atmosphere. 

"Everything-  was  as  quiet  that  morning  as  a  Puritan 
Sabbath  in  stuffy  old  New  England.  The  '  chug- '  of  the  pick 
and  the  clang-  of  the  shovel  were  conspicuously  absent  among 
those  rocky  hills  and  crag's.  So  still  was  the  camp,  that  an 
elk  that  was  snuffing  the  air  in  a  spirit  of  curious  and  careful 
investigation,  far  up  on  the  mountain  side,  came  nearer  and 
yet  nearer,  tossing  his  huge  tree-like  horns  in  defiance  at 
first,  and  then  standing  stock-still  as  if  amazed.  When  he 
had  finished  his  tour  of  investigation,  he  turned  and  stalked 
majestically  away  down  the  side  of  a  rocky  gorge  that 
would  hardly  have  afforded  safe  footing  for  a  cat.  He  glanced 
back  several  times  as  though  bewildered,  and  finally,  with  a 
farewell  toss  of  his  kingly  head,  disappeared  among-  the 
scrubby  pines  and  firs  that  fringed  even  the  steep  canon 
sides  of  those  mighty  mountains  of  the  Sierra  range. 

"  Even  Nature  herself,  seemed  out  for  a  holiday.  The 
scream  of  a  panther,  far  off  in  the  woods,  and  the  less  terrify- 
ing and  more  familiar  cry  of  the  cat-bird,  split  the  air  with 
an  echo  as  of  alien  sounds.  Even  the  pretty  'Bob  White! 
Bob  White ! '  of  the  mountain  quail,  actually  surprised  the  ear. 

"As  I  stood  at  the  door  of  my  little  shack,  and  inhaled 
the  invigorating  balm  that  was  brought  by  the  early  morn- 
ing- breeze  from  the  mountain  firs  and  pines,  the  decided 
holiday  aspect  of  the  camp  struck  me  most  forcibly.  It  was 
evident  that  my  fellow  citizens  had  unanimously  agreed  upon 
a  holiday,  and  were  making  a  good  beginning  by  prolonging- 
their  morning  nap. 

"  While  breathing  in  huge  doses  of  the  sovereign  lung- 
remedy  of  the  hills,  I  thought  my  friend  the  Major  was 
especially  fortunate  in  having-  the  elements  with  him.  On 
such  a  glorious  day,  a  man  ought  to  have  courag-e  enough  to 
whip  his  weight  in  wildcats,  to  say  nothing  of  a  Mexican 
steer. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  519 

"  I  had  a  vague  hope  that  the  Major  would  find  some 
excuse  to  weaken,  before  the  afternoon — I  did  not  want  his 
sublime  yet  cowardly  egotism  to  bring  him  to  grief.  I  had 
some  misgivings  as  to  his  ability  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the 
animal  that  had  been  provided  for  his  amusement — indeed,  I 
had  suggested  to  my  friend  Mapes,  that  he  ought  to  let  the 
old  man  have  his  horse  for  the  occasion,  but  Jerry  didn't, see 
it  that  way. 

"'Ye  see,  Doc,'  he  said,  'it's  ther  hoss  thet  mos'  allus 
gits  ther  wust  uv  these  ere  bull-fights.  Th'  ole  Major  hez  er 
two  ter  one  better  show  ter  keep  frum  gittin'  hurt  than  his 
hoss  '11  hev.  I  like  th'  ole  feller  better'n  most  ennybody,  but  I 
kaint  do  bizness  without  thet  little  buckskin  nag  o'  mine. 
Besides,  ez  I've  told  ye,  ther  boys  '11  be  on  hand  with  the'r 
rifles,  so  yore  mind  kin  be  easy  'bout  our  center  uv  attrack- 
shun  et  ther  comin'  show.  Th'  ole  feller  '11  git  his  purty 
cloze  mussed,  mor'n  likely,  but  thet's  'bout  all.' 

"I  did  feel  somewhat  easier  in  mind  after  this  reassur- 
ance, but  I  will  candidly  confess  that  I  was  by  no  means  free 
from  anxiety. 

"As  I  stood  there  at  my  door  enjoying  the  beautiful  sun- 
rise, I  saw  a  solitary  horseman  emerge  from  the  midst  of 
some  chaparral  bushes  that  fringed  the  road  leading  toward 
Placerville.  It  required  no  critical  survey  of  the  equestrian 
to  recognize  him,  even  at  the  considerable  distance  that  inter- 
vened. Those  long  legs  and  windmill-like  arms  could  belong 
to  no  other  human  being  but  my  friend,  the  Major. 

"I  wish  that  I  might  describe  the  old  man  as  he  appeared 
that  morning,  with  sufficient  accuracy  to  depict  him  to  your 
mind's  eye — but  it  would  be  useless  to  try.  Nothing  short 
of  a  photograph  would  do  the  subject  justice.  The  misera- 
ble little  screw  of  a  mustang  that  he  bestrode,  was  the  pic- 
ture of  attenuated,  hungry,  despairing  resignation.  Experi- 
ence had  taught  him  that  patience  was  a  cardinal  virtue,  for 
long  association  with  his  master  had  convinced  him  that  the 
world  was  but  a  satire  on  happiness  and  a  burlesque  on  com- 
fort, and  that  there  were  no  other  virtues  worth  cultivation. 
Spirit,  that  mustang  certainly  must  have  had — in  his  earlier 
days — but  numerous  attempts  to  unhorse  his  gallant  master 


520  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

had  shown  him  the  futility  of  attempting1  to  throw  a  man 
whose  leg's  were  like  a  giant  pair  of  calipers,  or,  perhaps,  to 
use  a  simile  more  vital  and  organic,  twin  boa-constrictors — 
hence  he  was  now  as  tame  as  a  hack  horse. 

"Whether  the  Major's  leg's  had  slowly  but  surely  stran- 
gled both  breath  and  spirit  out  of  his  modern  Rosinante,  I 
cannot  say,  but  the  beast  was  certainly  crushed  out  of  all 
semblance  to  the  fiery  steed  which  so  gallant  a  soldier  should 
have  bestrode. 

"The  Major  had  many  wonderful  deeds  to  relate,  in 
which  '  ma  charg-ah,  suh,'  took  a  prominent  part,  and  the  boys 
said  that  he  had  been  most  solicitous  about  the  care  of  his 
steed,  when  he  left  it  in  charge  of  one  of  his  numerous  friends 
on  departing  for  Europe.  I  doubt  not,  that  he  would  have 
found  it  difficult  indeed,  to  duplicate  the  cast-iron  ribs  and 
enduring  stomach  of  that  tough  little  mustang,  hence  his 
solicitude  for  his  fiery  charger's  welfare  was  not  surprising". 

"As  the  old  soldier  rode  along-  up  the  steep  incline  of  the 
road,  I  thought  of  the  treat  Cervantes  had  missed — Don 
Quixote  was  but  a  weakling  beside  this  modern  knight- 
errant,  and  compared  with  the  Major's  mustang,  Rosinante 
was  as  a  kitten  might  have  been  unto  Adonis'  fiery  stallion. 

"The  Major  was  not  usually  an  early  riser,  and  I  was 
at  first  at  a  loss  to  understand  his  morning  ride.  He  finally, 
however,  turned  aside,  and  I  saw  him  carefully  picking  his 
way  toward  a  little  plateau  just  outside  of  town,  where,  in 
plain  sight,  stood  the  corral-like  enclosure  in  which  the  long-- 
looked-for  bull-fight  was  to  occur.  Not  until  he  rode  up  to 
the  barred  entrance  of  the  enclosure,  and,  letting  down  the 
bars,  ambled  into  the  arena  of  the  forthcoming  battle  royal, 
did  I  grasp  the  situation. 

"'By  Jove!'  I  exclaimed,  'if  the  old  warrior  hasn't 
sneaked  out  to  the  battle-field  for  an  early  morning  rehearsal ! ' 

"It  seemed  to  me  to  be  hardly  fair  for  the  Major  to  take 
such  an  advantage  of  his  forthcoming-  antagonist — the  steer 
really  should  have  had  an  inning  at  the  rehearsal  business — 
but  as  I  knew  nothing  of  bull-fights,  I  never  said  anything  to 
the  boys  about  this  particular  feature  of  our  celebration.  I 
afterward  wondered  what  kind  of  rehearsing1  the  Major  did 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


521 


GOING    TO    REHEARSAL. 


522  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

that  morning-.  I  would  have  given  a  great  deal  to  have  held 
a  stop-watch  on  him.  He  surely  must  have  done  pretty 
well,  else  he  could  not  have  mada  such  a  wonderful  record  as 
he  did  later  in  the  day.  One  thing1  is  certain,  however,  and 
that  is,  that  if  the  bull  had  done  any  rehearsing-,  the  Major's 
time  would  subsequently  have  been  so  intimately  commingled 
with  eternity,  that  his  record  would  not  have  appealed  very 
strongly  even  to  his  own  monumental  vanity. 

"  The  bull-fig-ht  was  set  for  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
but  long  before  the  appointed  time  the  town  was  swarming- 
with  visitors  from  the  surrounding1  mining1  camps.  Some  of 
the  miners  had  come  for  miles,  to  witness  the  '  cap  sheaf  '  of 

E 's  glorification — a  bull-fight,  under  the  management  of 

the  only  specialist  in  the  genuine  Spanish  article  in  America. 
Never  had  those  rough  miners  looked  cleaner  or  happier. 
Their  shirts  were  redder  and  their  six-shooters  shinier  than 
ever  before. 

"  Our  home  boys  were  in  high  feather,  and  it  was  an  easy 
matter  for  any  decent  and  peaceable  chap  to  own  the  town. 
Whisky  flowed  like  our  own  mountain  streams,  but  although 
there  was  many  a  skinful  of  bad  liquor  in  camp  that  day,  the 
boys  scored  the  best  record  that  had  ever  been  made  in  that 
region  since  it  was  opened.  An  occasion  of  festivity  without 
a  cutting  or  shooting  scrape  !  Such  a  thing  was  unpre- 
cedented. Why,  the  town  was  actually  safe  for  half-way 
decent  greasers,  and  on  the  day  when  the  boys  failed  to  score 
one  of  those  bilious-looking  fellows,  then,  indeed,  did  white- 
winged  Peace  hover  over  our  camp. 

"  '  To  be  sure,  there  was  something  lacking  in  our  influx 
of  guests,  the  fair  sex  being  conspicuously  scanty  in  repre- 
sentation. An  occasional  squaw,  dirty  and  picturesque,  with 
here  and  there  the  bright  gewgaws  and  jingling  bells  of  a 
coquettish,  greasy  and  unwholesome  Mexican  woman  of  the 
lower  class,  was  about  the  extent  of  our  female  guests  from 
out  of  town.  But  stay;  there  was  the  somewhat  ancient,  but 
still  buxom  Mrs.  Rafferty,  who  took  in  washing,  and,  for 
aught  I  know,  scrubbing,  for  our  neighbors  the  Placervillians. 

" '  Our  own  ladies  were  necessarily  few  in  number. 
Mrs.  Watson,  and  her  angular,  but  not  unprepossessing 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  523 

daughter,  with  a  few  miners'  '  wives  '  whose  records  would 
have  hardly  borne  inspection — as  might  also  be  said  of  their 
personal  hygiene — constituted  the  sum  total  of  the  fair  sex  of 
our  town  who  were  expected  to  do  the  honors  at  our  hitherto 
unrivalled  celebration.  They  were  enough,  however,  I  fan- 
cied, to  inspire  the  valor  of  so  chivalric  a  knight  as  the  gallant 
Major  Merriwether. 

"When  the  hour  appointed  for  the  bull-fight  arrived,  it 
was  evident  that  everybody  was  prepared  to  be  entertained. 
Our  own  boys,  especially,  seemed  to  anticipate  a  rare  treat. 
Whether  they  had  a  pretty  accurate  idea  as  to  the  precise 
character  of  the  forthcoming  entertainment  or  not,  I  cannot 
say,  but  I  have  my  suspicions.  There  was  an  air  of  sup- 
pressed merriment  about  them  that  warranted  my  distrust. 

"Lumber  was  scarce  in  our  section  of  the  country — 
our  people  were  too  busy  fortune  hunting,  to  do  more  than 
provide  lumber  enough  to  protect  themselves  from  the  ele- 
ments. Indeed,  a  canvas  house  was  sufficiently  palatial  for 
many  of  our  citizens,  and  especially  for  new-comers. 

"  No  effort  had  been  made,  therefore,  to  construct  elabor- 
ate seats  for  the  audience  that  was  expected  at  the  bull-fight. 
Seating  arrangements  inside  the  grounds  were  not  to  be 
thought  of,  as  that  would  have  necessitated  a  solid  inner 
fence,  or  barrier.  A  narrow  platform  had  consequently  been 
built  on  twTo  sides  of  the  enclosure,  from  which  a  person 
standing  upon  it  could  get  a  good  view  of  the  battle-ground 
by  looking  over  the  fence.  A  short  ladder,  here  and  there, 
completed  the  necessary  equipments  for  the  accommodation 
of  sight-seers.  As  the  entertainment  was  a  free  'blow-out,' 
these  rather  primitive  arrangements  were  amply  sufficient. 

"A  little  before  three  o'clock,  the  boys,  as  per  arrange- 
ment with  the  Major,  managed  to  get  the  steer  into  the 
enclosure.  He  was  a  savage-looking  black  devil  as  ever 
you  saw,  and  would  have  scared  a  Texas  cowboy  into  a  fit. 
The  Major,  however,  had  requested  the  boys  to  make  sure 
that  the  animal  was  sufficiently  'feahce,'  hence  they  pro- 
ceeded to  'fiercen'  him  up  a  bit  more,  by  a  series  of  yells  that 
would  have  made  a  Comanche  Indian  hide  his  face  in  modest 
amaze. 


524  OVER  THR  HOOKAH. 

"The  Major  had  provided  them  with  a  supply  of  blood- 
red  banners,  that  he  had  imported  along- with  the  other  prop- 
erties essential  to  bull-fighting-  «  la  Espagnolc.  The  boys 
waved  these  at  the  steer  until  he  was  perfectly  wild,  and 
only  desisted  after  the  animal  had  narrowly  missed  impaling 
one  of  them  upon  his  formidable  horns. 

"The  Major  was  a  little  late  in  arriving1,  but  finally  put 
in  his  appearance  bestriding1  his  scrubby  little  mustang-  and 
carrying-  a  larg-e  bundle  at  his  saddle-bow.  Round  after 
round  of  hearty  and  explosive  greeting's  saluted  the  old  man 
as  he  rode  up,  dismounted,  and,  consig-ning1  the  care  of  his 
horse  to  one  of  his  friends,  proceeded  to  prepare  for  the 
fray. 

"'I  trust,  suhs,'  he  said,  'that  yo'  all  have  excited  the 
bull  to  a  sufficient  extent.  Yo'  see,  I  don't  like  to  dis'point 
ma  fren's,  an'  inordah  to  enta'tain  yo',  I  mus'  have  the  animal 
quite  feahce.' 

"The  boys  assured  the  Major  that  no  pains  had  been 
spared  to  prepare  the  bull,  and  that  he  was  now  as  fierce  as 
a  mountain  cat. 

"I'm  'blig-ed  to  yo'  I'm  suah,  g-entlemen,  an'  I  will  at  once 
prepaih  fo'  the  affaih.' 

"With  this  the  hero  marched  off  to  a  little  cabin  a  few 
yards  away,  that  had  been  impressed  into  service  for  a  green- 
room. 

"In  a  few  minutes  the  Major  emerg-ed  from  the  cabin, 
arrayed  in  a  costume  the  g-org-eousness  of  which  was  unpar- 
alleled by  anything-  in  the  way  of  wearing1  apparel  that  the 
crowd  had  ever  seen.  He  had  donned  the  habiliments  of 
a  Spanish  torreador,  that  formed  a  part  of  his  numerous 
European  trapping's.  In  addition  to  the  brilliant  g-arb  in 
which  he  was  to  smite  the  mig-hty  steer,  he  had  bedecked 
himself  with  every  medal  he  had  in  stock. 

"  There  is  no  disputing1  the  fact  that  the  old  veteran  was 
a  picturesque  and  striking-  figure,  as  he  strode  up  to  the  gate, 
with  his  bespangled  garments  and  multitudinous  medals  glit- 
tering in  the  sunlight.  His  trusty  rapier — a  *  Toledo '  for 
the  nonce — dangled  at  his  heels  and  clinked  against  his  huge 
spurs  at  every  step.  He  should  have  struck  terror  to  the 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  525 

heart  of  any  foeman — but  a  steer  is  somewhat  peculiar  in  the 
foeman  line,  as  will  develop  later. 

"The  Major  mounted  his  mustang-  in  stately  grandeur, 
and  said  to  the  expectant  gentlemen  who  had  volunteered  to 
act  as  his  aides:  'Yo'  see,  gentlemen,  it  is  not  the  usual 
custom  to,  ah — despatch  the  bull  at  once.  The  prelim'nary 
enta'tainment  is  gen'ally  conducted  by  picado's  an'  band'ril- 
los'  who  are  supposed  to  prepaih  the  bull  fo'  the  chief  per- 
fo'mah.  Ho\vevah,  ma  fren's  have  kindly  prepared  the 
animal,  hence  it  is  quite  propah  fo'  me  to  entah  the  arena  an' 
give  the  bull  the  coup  de  grace  in  sho't  ordah.  To  be  suah, 
suhs,  I  will  dally  with  the  feahce  creatuah,  long  'nough  to 
enta'tain  yo'  all  in  a  suit'ble  mannah,  an'  sat'sfy  the  guests 
who  have  hona'ed  us  with  their  presence  heah  this  afta'noon.' 

"'Yo'  will  let  down  the  bars  ca'fully,  gentlemen,  an' be 
on  yo'  ga'd  lest  the  feahce  animal  escape  an'  injah  some  of  yo' 
all.  I  desiah  to  avoid  exposin'  yo'  to  dangah,  suhs.' 

"  There  was  no  necessity  of  asking  the  boys  to  let  down 
the  bars  carefully.  They  waited  until  the  steer  had  veered 
away  from  the  entrance  to  the  arena  before  they  ventured  to 
touch  them.  I  am  free  to  say  that  the  animal  didn't  seem  at 
all  sociably  inclined,  even  from  where  I  stood — and  I  was  as 
far  away  from  his  majesty  as  I  could  get  and  still  be  able  to 
see  the  performance. 

"The  upper  bars  having  been  let  down,  the  gallant  bull- 
fighter leaped — or  rather  hopped — his  charger  over  the  few 
that  remained,  and  advanced  in  the  direction  of  the  steer. 
Most  of  the  on-lookers  held  their  breath,  while  the  reserves 
cocked  their  rifles  and  got  ready  for  trouble. 

"It  was  easy  to  see  that  our  boys  were  far  from  tranquil. 
The  anxious  expression  upon  some  of  their  faces,  and  the 
manner  in  which  they  fondled  their  rifles,  suggested  that 
they  had  already  carried  the  practical  joke  a  little  farther 
than  was  comfortable.  Personally,  I  heartily  wished  that  I 
was  well  out  of  the  scrape  into  which  I  had  allowed  my  appre- 
ciation of  comedy  to  entice  me. 

"It  has  always  been  a  mystery  to  me  that  the  steer — 
which  had  taken  a  point  of  vantage  on  a  little  eminence  at  the 
side  of  the  arena  directly  opposite  the  entrance — did  not 


526  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

charge  the  Major  the  instant  he  appeared  upon  the  field.  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  that  even  the  poor  dumb  brute,  was 
overawed  by  the  majestic  and  imposing-  spectacle  presented 
by  the  hero  of  the  hour.  Possibly  the  animal  was  hypnotized, 
as  animals  sometimes  are,  by  brilliant  objects.  Granting-  the 
susceptibility  of  the  steer,  the  brilliancy  of  the  Major 
should  have  thrown  him  into  a  trance. 

"Upon  whatever  basis  the  phenomenon  might  be  ex- 
plained, however,  the  fact  remains  that  for  a  short  time 
after  the  entrance  of  our  gorgeous  bull-fighter,  the  steer  stood 
stock-still,  and  g-azed  upon  him  in  wild-eyed  amazement. 

"  The  grand  entree  of  the  Major  was  a  signal  for  a  salvo 
of  wild  applause,  that  may  have  had  something-  to  do  with 
confusing1  the  long-horned  actor. 

"But  his  steership  was  not  long-  inactive;  he  soon  got  an 
action  on  him  that  would  have  surprised  a  Kilkenny  cat! 

"The  Major,  on  noticing  the  actions  of  the  steer  when 
he  first  dawned  upon  the  animal's  vision,  evidently  mistook 
the  conservative  air  of  his  bovine  foe,  for  fear.  Bowing  gal- 
lantly to  the  very  neck  of  his  mustang  and  kissing  his  hand 
to  the  ladies,  he  gave  the  poor  brute  the  spur  and  charged 
most  valiantly  upon  the  enemy. 

"The  steer  now  suddenly  awakened  from  his  reverie, 
and  not  to  be  outdone,  proceeded  to  meet  the  Major  half-way. 
As  he  made  this  counter-charge,  he  was  an  object  that  would 
have  frightened  a  Coeur  de  Lion  out  of  his  wits.  I  don't  know 
how  the  Major  felt — I  could  not  see  his  face— but,  thank 
heaven!  the  mustang  weakened,  swerved  aside  with  a  fright- 
ened snort,  and  bolted — the  steer's  horns  just  missing  him, 
and  that's  all ! 

"  From  this  time  on,  the  bull-fight  was  a  procession,  and 
a  lively  one  at  that.  I  never  shall  forget,  if  I  live  to  be  a 
hundred,  the  spectacle  the  Major  presented  as  he  tore  around 
that  arena!  His  charger  was  no  longer  running  away,  the 
old  man  had  driven  his  spurs  into  the  mustang's  flanks  until 
they  were  fairly  dripping  with  blood,  and  the  frightened 
animal  was  recalling  the  speed  of  his  youth  as  fast  as  he 
knew  how ! 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  527 

"  Round  and  round  they  went,  the  Major  in  the  lead,  and 
the  steer  so  close  a  second  that  no  one  dared  fire  a  shot  for 
fear  of  hitting-  our  postmaster!  Never  before  nor  since,  has 
the  United  States  postal  service  made  such  a  record  as  it  did 
that  day ! 

"At  one  time,  it  seemed  as  if  the  gallant  bull-fighter 
would  certainly  be  caught — his  mustang-  swerved  and  almost 
unseated  him !  He  fell  forward  over  the  pommel  of  his  saddle, 
however,  and,  wrapping-  his  arms  about  his  charg-er's  neck, 
his  spindling  legs  being  meanwhile  coiled  about  the  body  of 
the  animal,  he  continued  his  headlong  charge — away  from 
the  foe! 

"During  the  first  portion  of  this  remarkable  exhibition, 
the  old  Major  was  absolutely  stricken  dumb  with  fright,  and, 
save  the  clashing  of  his  trusty  rapier  upon  his  spurred  heel, 
the  snorting  of  the  mustang  and  an  occasional  bellow  from 
the  steer,  the  exciting  scene  was  as  free  from  noise  as  far  as 
the  chief  actors  were  concerned,  as  an  old-fashioned  funeral. 

"But  the  old  man  soon  found  his  voice,  and  of  all  the 
roaring  ever  heard,  his  capped  the  climax: 

"'Let  down  the  bars,  gentlemen!  Let  down  the  bars! 
Fo'  Gawd's  sake,  suhs,  let  'em  down!'  he  cried. 

"  'Kill  ther  bull,  ole  man!  Kill  him!  Stick  yer  sord  in 
'im!  Now's  yer  chance!  Give  it  to  'im,  Major!'  yelled  the 
boys,  meanwhile  watching  an  opportunity  for  a  shot. 

"  'Let  down  the  bars,  I  say!  let  'em  down  quick,  or  I'm 
a  gonah,  suah,  suhs!'  shrieked  the  Major. 

"  '  Ther  bull  might  escape ! '  somebody  cried  in  reply. 

"  By  this  time  the  Major  was  fairly  frothing  at  the  mouth. 

"'D— n  the  bull,  suhs!  D—n  the  bull!  Let  me  out! 'he 
howled. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  nobody  dared  let  down  the  bars. 
The  steer  was  constantly  close  behind  the  Major,  and  it 
seemed  impossible  to  prevent  the  brute  from  escaping  almost 
simultaneously  with  him.  In  case  the  bars  could  not  have 
been  put  up  quickly  enough  to  prevent  the  furious  animal's 
escape,  he  would  certainly  have  mixed  up  with  the  crowd. 

"The  Major's  case  seemed  by  this  time  to  be  a  trifle 
dubious — indeed,  had  his  friends  not  been  of  the  stuff  of 


528  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

which  heroes  are  made,  the  old  man  would  never  have  come 
out  of  that  corral  alive. 

"If  he  had  only  conducted  his  gallant  campaign  in  a 
little  different  manner,  his  embarrassment  might  have  been 
speedily  relieved.  Instead  of  circling  about  near  the  fence, 
and  thus  giving  his*friends  a  chance  for  a  point-blank  volley 
at  the  steer,  the  old  fool  not  only  persistently  kept  away 
from  us,  but  appeared  to  be  circling  about  in  a  spiral  fashion 
that  was  likely,  sooner  or  later,  to  bring  him  plump  against 
the  steer  in  the  middle  of  the  corral.  It  was  evident  that 
something  must  be  done,  and  done  promptly. 

"Just  as  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that  the  Major  was 
indeed,  a  'goner,'  I  heard  the  voice  of  Jerry  Mapleson  above 
the  shouts  of  the  crowd. — 

"'Come  on,  Charley!'  he  cried,  and  over  the  fence  and 
into  the  corral  he  went,  a  six-shooter  in  one  hand,  and  a  red 
bandana  handkerchief  in  the  other,  with  plucky  little  Charley 
Mason  at  his  heels,  carrying  a  rifle.  The  crowd,  as  soon 
as  it  caught  sight  of  the  two  brave  fellows,  hurrahed  like 
mad. 

"  The  attention  of  the  steer  was  at  once  diverted  to  Jerry 
and  his  lurid  battle  flag,  and  he  very  promptly  charged  on 
his  new  foe.  Instead  of  getting  out  of  the  way,  however,  the 
brave  chap  actually  stood  his  ground  and  emptied  his  pistol 
fairly  in  the  face  of  the  steer — with  no  effect  other  than  to 
make  the  beast  more  furious  than  ever.  In  a  second  the 
steer  was  upon  him,  and  down  he  went,  narrowly  escaping 
impalement  on  those  terrible  horns! 

"Jerry  was  knocked  senseless,  and  the  steer,  turning 
about,  was  just  in  the  act  of  charging  back  at  his  prostrate 
enemy,  when  'crack!'  rang  Charley  Mason's  rifle,  and  a  ball 
fired  at  close  range  pierced  the  steer's  body  where  it  was 
likely  to  do  the  most  good — just  behind  his  foreshoulder. 
The  brute  stopped  stock-still  for  a  second,  tossing  his  mag- 
nificent head  in  the  air  with  fiery  spirit  still  unquenched,  and 
then,  with  a  torrent  of  blood  gushing  from  his  nostrils, 
pitched  forward  and  fell  upon  the  ground- — an  excellent  arti- 
cle of  prime  beef,  but  no  longer  a  foeman  worthy  of  the 
Major's  trusty  steel. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  529 

"The  noise  of  the  shooting1  thoroughly  demoralized  the 
Major's  mustang-;  he  began  bucking,  and  wound  up  by  falling 
with  the  old  warrior,  who,  like  his  gallant  rescuer,  Jerry,  was 
knocked  senseless! 

"  Neither  of  the  heroes  of  the  occasion  were  seriously 
hurt,  however.  Jerry  soon  came  to,  and  in  a  few  moments 
the  Major  had  recovered  sufficiently  to  be  able  to  walk. 

"The  boys,  however,  insisted  on  carrying  the  old  fellow 
to  town  in  triumphal  state.  To  be  sure,  he  had  not  conducted 
his  exhibition  on  the  hard  and  fast  lines  upon  which  he  had 
planned  it,  but  had  he  not  given  them  a  Spanish  bull-fight? 
And  was  not  the  steer  dead?  And,  better  still,  was  not  their 
dear  old  Major  alive? 

"The  celebration  of  the  Major's  victory  occupied  some 
time,  and  it  was  fully  a  week  before  we  ventured  to  talk  to 
him  about  the  fight — not  that  we  apprehended  hurting  his 
feelings — his  egotism  was  impregnable — but  he  was  slow  in 
recovering  his  faculty  of  speech.  Our  '  tanglefoot '  was  also 
'tangle-tongue.' 

"I  do  not  know  how  he  finally  squared  himself  with  the 
boys,  but  he  called  upon  me  quite  formally  one  evening,  and, 
after  a  few  preliminary  '  looseners,'  in  the  way  of  large  doses 
of  the  horse  liniment  that  had  been  masquerading  as  whisky 
in  my  cabin,  ever  since  my  demijohn  ran  dry,  broached  the 
subject  of  our  Fourth  of  July  celebration: 

"  'By  the  way,  Doctah,'  he  said,  'is  it  not  an  unfo'tunate 
thing,  suh,  that  ouah  mos'  cherished  plans  are  so  freq'ently 
upset  by  some  cursed  accident?  Do  yo'  know,  suh,  thet  if 
ma  infernal  hawse  hadn't  run  away  on  the  Fo'th,  I  would 
have  given  ouah  guests  an  exhibition  of  bull  fightin'  such  as 
they  nevah  saw  befo'?  An'  then,  suh,  aftah  ma  desp'rate 
effo'ts  to  control  the  brute  had  met  with  success,  to  have  ma 
own  fren's,  not  only  rush  in  an'  rob  me  of  the  honah  of  killin' 
the  bull,  but  frighten  ma  hawse  so  that  he  threw  me,  suh — 
'twas  too  much,  doctah,  too  much!  In  case  I  should  evah 
give  another  exhibition,  I  shall  sut'nly  reques'  mo'  time  fo' 
prepa'ation,  an'  I  sut'nly  shall  expec'  to  have  a  hawse  that  has 
been  prop'ly  trained,  suh.  It's  very  emba'ssing  to  dis'point 
one's  fren's,  suh.' 


530 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"'My  dear  Major,'  I  replied,  soothingly,  'you  are  ack- 
nowledged by  everyone,  to  be  the  greatest  authority  of  the 
age,  on  bull-fighting-.  No  one  doubts  your  ability,  much  less 
your  courage,  and  we  all  appreciate  the  difficulties  under 
which  you  labored.  All  who  witnessed  that  affair  on  the 
Fourth,  will  agree  that  such  a  spectacle  was  never  before 
seen — even  in  Spain.  So  let  us  drink  to  the  success  of  the 
next  bull-fight.  My  compliments,  sir!' 

"  '  Yo'  are  very  kind,  I'm  suah,'  said  the  Major,  as,  with 
a  sigh,  he  set  down  his  glass,  'but  yo'  do  me  too  much  honah, 
suh.  Please  remembah,  howevah,  that  I  am  yo'  fren',  an' 
the  fren'  of  yo'  fren's,  at  all  times,  suh.  In  case  yo'  should 
evah  have  any  little  affaihs  of  honah  to  adjust,  I  will  info'm 
yo',  suh,  that  I  am  familyah  with  all  the  little  co'tesies  that 
should  prevail  between  men  of  honah  an'  courage,  suh.  An' 
now,  ma  deah  doctah,  I  will  bid  yo'  good-night,  suh.' ' 


"And,  with   the   Major,  I,  too,  will  say  'good-night.'" 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER, 


IV. 


HEN    first    I    met    thee, 

maiden  fair, 
So  many  years  ago, 
Like   golden   threads   thy 

glossy  hair, 
Thy     cheek     with     pink 

aglow. 

But      now     I     see     thee 

through  the  smoke, 
Of  later  life's  cigar, 
I  just  appreciate  the  joke, 
'Tis     bleach    and     rouge 
you  are, 


THE    MAJOR    ORDERS   A    RETRKAT. 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER, 


IV. 


HE  doctor  seemed  more  than  usually 
thoughtful  when  I  next  saw  him. 
He  had  evidently  come  in  from  his 
weary  rounds  earlier  than  usual, 
for  he  had  finished  his  dinner  and 
was  in  the  library  smoking-  when  I 
arrived.  As  I  entered  the  door  of 
his  cheery  sanctum,  I  found  him  sitting-  at  the  table, 
his  head  leaning-  upon  his  hand,  and,  as  the  hazy 
wreaths  of  smoke  arose  like  fragrant  incense  from  his 
hookah,  he  wras  g-azing-  abstractedly  at  an  anatomical  chart 
that  hung-  upon  the  wall. 

I  waited  a  moment,  silently  watching-  that  kindly-intel- 
lectual face  upon  which  so  many  lines  of  care  had  developed, 
and  noting-  with  regret,  that  his  hair  and  beard  were  rapidly 
becoming-  white  as  silver.  At  length  he  sig-hed,  glanced  up 
at  the  clock,  and,  noting  the  hour,  turned  expectantly  toward 
the  door,  where  he  found  me  standing  upon  the  threshold.  I 
trust  it  was  not  self-conceit,  but  I  fancied  there  was  much  of 
g-enial  warmth  in  the  smile  with  which  he  greeted  me. 

"Well,  I  declare! — you're  here  at  last.  I  feared  you 
were  not  coming;  you  are  usually  so  prompt.  Having  my- 
self got  in  early  this  evening  and  my  wife  being  out,  the 
time  has  dragged  most  wearily,  I  assure  you.  I  might  have 
read  an  article  or  two,  I  suppose,  while  waiting,  but  I  cannot 
read  with  any  degree  of  profit  or  enjoyment,  unless  I  have  a 
straight-away  course  of  an  hour  or  so.  As  for  killing  time 
while  waiting  for  some  one — well,  that's  an  utter  impossi- 
bility. 


536  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Pensive?  Yes,  rather. — I  was  musing-  over  certain 
impressions  received  from  my  work  to-day.  A  case  upon 
which  I  operated  early  this  morning-,  put  me  into  a  reflective 
mood  from  which  I  have  hardly  yet  recovered. 

"  What  kind  of  a  case  ?  Oh,  'twas  a  brain  case — a  fellow 
who  had  been  kicked  on  the  frontal  reg-ion  by  a  horse,  some 
time  ago.  He  had  been  treated  by  one  of  those  so-called  con- 
servative chaps,  who  sit  down  complacently  beside  a  dying- 
patient  and  wait  for  something-  to  hatch.  When  they  wait 
long-  enoug-h,  they  usually  succeed  in  hatching- — an  ang-el,  or 
something-  of  the  sort,  depending-  altogether  on  the  poor  devil 
of  a  patient's  theological  politics,  you  know. 

"In  the  case  under  consideration,  the  conservative  doctor 
succeeded  in  hatching  a  nice  case  of  traumatic  epilepsy — later 
on.  Now,  I  don't  want  to  quarrel  with  so-called  conservatism, 
but  I  -would  like  to  know  what  possible  benefit  that  doctor 
expected  his  patient  to  derive  from  the  pressure  of  a  square 
yard — more  or  less — of  depressed  skull  upon  the  frontal  lobes 
of  his  brain.  Did  he  depend  upon  the  elasticity  of  the  brain- 
matter  to  adapt  itself  to  the  new  conditions?  To  be  sure,  the 
brain  is  more  or  less  elastic  and  compressible,  but,  were  it 
India  rubber,  jagged  bone  would  be  likely  to  wear  holes  in  it. 
I  don't  believe  that  medicine-man  would  apply  the  same  rule 
to  himself.  Supposing  he  had  a  half  ton  of  rock  resting  on 
his  corns;  do  you  believe  he  would  wait  for  subsequent  symp- 
toms before  he  would  howl  for  somebody  to  lift  the  rock  off 
his  foot?  Not  a  bit  of  it ! 

"Some  difference  between  the  foot  and  the  brain,  you 
say?  Yes,  but  because  an  injury  to  the  brain  doesn't  make 
a  man  squeal  like  a  pig,  is  no  reason  why  the  organ  should  be 
abused;  it's  good  surgery  to  lift  weights  off  it  and  pick  splin- 
ters out  of  it,  anyway. 

"Do  you  know,  my  boy,  that,  to  my  mind,  injuries  of  the 
cavities  of  the  body  are  the  stage  upon  which  more  comedies 
and  more  tragedies  are  enacted,  than  in  any  other  field  of 
surgery?  Just  think  of  a  surgeon  standing,  chisel  or  knife  in 
hand,  over  a  compound  fracture  of  the  skull  or  an  abdominal 
wound,  and  mouthing  conservatism! 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  537 

"  Yes,  it  is  being-  done  to-day,  this  very  hour,  yea,  this 
very  minute!  Shade  of  Hippocrates! — come  back  to  earth, 
and  see  how  nearly  thou  art  up  to  date ! 

"Idiots!  Why  don't  some  of  these  'conservatives'  un- 
derstand that  the  cavity  is  already  open,  and  that  conserva- 
tism is — well,  it's  murder,  that's  all. 

"While  I  was  chiselling-  away  the  rough  bone  that 
pressed  upon  that  poor  fellow's  brain,  I  couldn't  help  thinking 
that  the  org-an  had  a  rig-ht  to  protest,  even  to  the  extent  of 
epileptic  fits — only  it  was  the  wrong-  man  who  had  'em. 

"When  I  had  loosened  the  adhesions  about  the  fractured 
area,  that  poor  imprisoned  brain  seemed  to  pulsate — yea,  pal- 
pitate— for  very  joy.  It's  no  wonder  the  old-time  fellows 
looked  in  the  skull  for  the  seat  of  the  soul.  Poor  devils! 
They  thoug-ht  the  pineal  g-land  was  '  big-  potatoes  '  in  the  soul 
business!  Like  some  of  our  modern  scientists,  they  got 
thing's  down  a  little  too  fine. 

"The  soul  of  man  lies  before  us  as  soon  as  we  open  the 
living-  skull!  Bounding-  with  vivid  life,  seeming-  to  strug-g-le 
to  free  itself  from  its  bony  prison,  master  of  all  senses  and 
possessor  of  none — there  it  lies,  and  we  can  feel  it  throb  be- 
neath our  fing-ers — see  it  beat  before  our  very  eyes!  Bind  it 
down,  and  we  vegetate;  g-ive  it  exaltation  of  function,  and  we 
live  in  the  rosy  cloud-land  of  hope;  push  it  too  far,  and  the 
glare  of  insanity  blinds  us! 

"If  brains  were  only  not  so  much  alike. — 

"  To  think  that  the  brilliancy  of  the  genius,  the  depravity 
of  the  criminal  and  the  stupidity  of  the  dolt,  strike  the  same 
level  on  the  operating  or  post-mortem  table !  So  much  blood, 
so  many  ounces  of  gray  and  white  matter,  so  many  conduct- 
ing fibres,  such  and  such  an  arrangement  of  convolutions — 
awfully  prosy,  isn't  it  ? 

"  Complexity  and  number  of  convolutions? 

"Oh,  yes,  that's  the  saving  clause.  Their  degree  of  de- 
velopment, too,  is  important.  But,  while  we  know  that  cer- 
tain differences  are  likely  to  exist  between  the  cerebral  con- 
volutions of  a  common  thief  and  those  of  an  intellectual  giant, 
we  are  not  yet  able  to  predicate  from  the  convolutions  of 
any.  particular  brain,  the  mental  attributes  of  its  owner  with 


538  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

any  degree  of  accuracy.  As  for  the  size  of  the  organ,  you 
probably  remember  that  Daniel  Webster's  brain,  large  as  it 
was,  did  not  compare  with  that  of  a  certain  macrocephalic 
idiot!  The  soul  of  man !  Ah,  me!  how  little  we  know  about  it! 
"But,  my  boy,  we  mustn't  forget  the  Major.  He  is  a 
sensitive  old  chap  and  might  resent  it.  Besides,  the  poor 
old  man  gets  into  serious  trouble  to-night,  and  we  must  take 
sufficient  time  to  see  him  through  it  in  due  and  proper  form." 


"  It  has  been  truly  said,  my  boy,  that  love  is  the  turning- 
point  in  the  career  of  all  men.  Show  me  a  romance  in  which 
the  hero  does  not  fall  in  love,  and  I  will  show  you  the  philoso- 
pher's stone.  Everything  goes  on  quite  smoothly  until  the 
'little  blind  god'  appears  on  the  scene,  and  then  there's  noth- 
ing but  trouble  ever  after — until  marriage  or  death  pulls 
down  the  curtain  and  your  principal  actors  disappear.  It  is 
through  the  gateway  of  love,  therefore,  that  the  author  of 
romance  must  drive  his  chief  characters  off  the  field  of  action. 
Without  the  intervention  of  love,  the  drama  of  life — 'as  she 
is  writ  ' — would  go  on  forever. 

"Major  Merriwether,  however,  was  the  last  man  in  the 
world  whom  I  expected  to  fall  in  love.  His  sublimity  of  self- 
conceit,  his  divine  egotism,  and  his  mature  years,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  whisky  he  had  drunk — which  would  have 
knocked  the  romance  out  of  a  veritable  Romeo — should  have 
made  an  impregnable  barrier  to  Cupid's  darts. 

"But  our  gallant  Major  was  no  exception  to  the  rule 
that  governs  the  lives  of  great  men.  His  destiny  finally 
overtook  him  and  blighted  his  life — which,  over-ripe  as  it  was, 
still  held  fair  hopes  of  vain-glorious  exploits  and  barrels  on 
barrels  of  '  red-eye ! ' 

"  Love  did  not  steal  upon  our  hero  with  stealthy  steps, 
nor  unfold  within  his  manly  heart  as  blossoms  forth  the 
blushing  rose.  It  came  upon  him  as  suddenly  as  springs  the 
panther  of  those  noble  mountains  that  surrounded  so  many  of 
his  gallant  deeds  of  arms — and  with  similarly  disastrous 
results. 

"To  say  that  his  fellow  townsmen  were  surprised  and 
demoralized  by  the  new  and  unexpected  feature  in  the 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  539 

Major's  make-up,  would  be  putting1  it  mildly.  The  whole 
town  was  thrown  into  consternation.  Had  an  invasion  of 
Apache  Indians  taken  place,  the  boys  could  not  have  been 
more  concerned,  nor  more  anxious  to  organize  a  plan  for 
defense.  As  was  usual  with  them  in  all  matters  concerning 
the  Major,  they  finally  concluded  to  treat  the  affair  as  a 
huge  joke.  The  town  winked  humorously,  and — sealed  the 
Major's  doom,  to  the  everlasting-  sorrow  and  regret  of  all 
concerned. — 

"On  a  pleasant  evening  in  the  month  of  October  follow- 
ing the  ever-to-be-remembered  day  of  the  Spanish  bull-fight,  a 
stranger  came  into  town  on  the  weekly  stage  from  Placerville. 
He  put  up  at  the  Miner's  Rest,  and  made  arrangements  for 
a  few  days'  sojourn  among  us. 

"  The  new-comer  was  an  odd-looking  chap,  and  there  was 
much  speculation  among  the  boys  as  to  'his  game.'  Some 
allowed  that  he  was  a  '  tin-horn  sport '  or  a  '  short-card ' 
player  who  had  found  some  other  camp  too  warm  for  the 
exercise  of  his  peculiar  talents.  Others,  again,  believed  that 
he  was  looking  for  a  location  for  a  faro  game.  Several  went 
to  the  other  extreme  and  suggested  that  he  might  be  a  'sky 
pilot.'  Jerry  Mapes,  however,  said  that  he  believed  the  fel- 
low was  'some  ole  pill-garlic  lookin'  fer  er  chance  ter  swing 
his  shingle;  but,'  said  he,  turning  to  me,  'this  'ere  reserva- 
shun  is  purty  well  pervided  fer,  an'  et'll  be  ruther  pore  pickin' 
fer  enny  o'  these  'ere  outsiders,  less'n  they're  lookin'  fer  er 
scrimmage,  which  is  purty  d — d  good  pickin'  'roun'  hyar,  eh, 
boys?' 

"Personally,  I  rather  leaned  toward  the  theory  that  it 
was  a  preacher  with  whom  we  had  to  deal.  There  was  a 
grave,  subdued,  dignified  expression  on  his  smooth-shaven 
face,  that  was  in  my  opinion,  sufficient  to  convict  him  on 
my  charge,  before  any  jury.  We  soon  discovered,  however, 
that  we  were  all  wrong. 

"  During  the  sociable  liquidation  incidental  to  the  usual 
process  of  getting  acquainted  that  was  instituted  the  very 
evening  of  our  visitor's  arrival,  he  informed  us  that  he  was 
none  other  than  '  Mr.  Henry  Haskell,  sir,  sole  proprietor, 
manager,  treasurer  and  advance  agent  of  "  Haskell's  great 


540  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

and  only  Perambulating- Varieties,"  the  greatest  show,  gentle- 
men,  that  ever  left  the  effete  and  unappreciative  East,  to  dis- 
play its  unparalleled  magnificence  before  the  distinguished 
and  intellectual  citizens  of  the  mighty  West!' 

"  He  had  come  among  us,  he  said,  to  look  over  the  ground 
a  little,  and,  if  things  panned  out  satisfactorily,  to  make 
arrangements  for  bringing  his  wonderful  attraction  to  E . 

"Attractions  were  scarce  in  our  town,  and  if  Old  Nick 
himself  had  come  along  with  a  show,  he  would  have  been 
received  with  open  arms,  so  the  boys  didn't  ask  for  a  bill  of 
particulars  from  Mr.  Haskell.  He  was  a  showman,  could 
hold  as  much  whisky  without  leaking  as  the  best  of  them, 
and  what  was  better,  he  promised  to  have  his  great  and  only 
variety  show  on  the  ground  within  a  fortnight — with  due 
allowance  for  bad  weather  and  tough  roads. 

"  So  enthusiastic  were  our  citizens,  that  a  committee  was 
appointed  to  assist  in  furthering  Mr.  Haskell's  project,  Dutch 
Bill,  Charley  Mason,  a  fellow  whom,  for  obvious  reasons,  we 
used  to  call  'Whisky  Dick,'  and  myself,  being  selected  to 
do  the  necessary  honors. 

"Being  a  public-spirited  citizen,  I  not  only  served,  but 
officiated  as  chairman,  although  what  I  didn't  know  about 
variety  shows,  would  have  made  a  volume  larger  than  Web- 
ster's Unabridged.  But  experienced  or  not,  our  committee 
did  its  duty,  and  by  the  time  our  visitor  went  after  his  show, 
we  had  a  hall  ready  and  the  surrounding  country  thoroughly 
billed  for  the  forthcoming  event. 

"  Would  that  we  had  known  the  sequence  of  our  success- 
ful effort  to  assist  in  the  entertainment  of  our  fellow  towns- 
men! 

"The  great  show  arrived,  as  per  programme,  the  even- 
ing before  the  one  selected  for  the  opening  performance. 
As  was  customary  in  their  entertainment  of  visitors,  the 
boys  literally  overwhelmed  the  troupe  with  hospitable  atten- 
tions in  which  our  standard  'tarantula  juice'  played  its 
usual  prominent  role. 

"  The  company  of  performers  was  not  a  large  one.  Mr. 
Haskell  himself,  it  seemed,  was  a  banjo  soloist.  He  also 
sang  a  few  comic  songs,  he  informed  us,  and  generally  gave 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  541 

his  celebrated  version  of  Hamlet's  soliloquy,  when  he  felt  that 
he  had  a  sufficiently  intelligent  audience.  '  I  shall  certainly 
give  it  here,'  he  said,  a  statement  that  resulted  in  two  or 
three  more  rounds  of  liquor. 

"  Haskell  was  supported  by  a  little  dried-up  Irish  lad  by 
the  name  of  Murphy,  who,  according  to  his  own  account — 
rendered  after  the  sixth  round  of  drinks — could  'bate  inny 
lad  in  the  tirritories,  begorra,  dancin'  a  clog  or  an  Oirish 
rale!'  Haskell,  it  seemed,  furnished  the  music  during 
Murphy's  performances — indeed,  he  was  the  entire  orches- 
tra of  the  show. 

"In  addition  to  the  celebrated  jig  and  banjo  artists,  there 
were  a  couple  of  gentlemen,  who,  the  manager  claimed,  were 
the  greatest  acrobats  and  contortionists  ever  seen  upon  any 
stage.  I  don't  think  this  account  was  at  all  exaggerated,  for 
they  certainly  took  a  few  drops  on  their  first  evening  in 

E ,  that  would  have  killed  any  gymnasts  of  less  skill. 

There  was  a  peculiar  expression  upon  their  faces,  however, 
which  suggested  that  they  occasionally  took  a  drop  too  much 
— and  usually  landed  upon  their  noses! 

"Then  there  was  'Professor'  Pranzini,  'the  greatest  of 
living  prestidigitators.'  This  gentleman  was  said  to  be  an 
Italian,  and  his  name  was  certainly  suggestive  of  the  land  of 
maccaroni  and  beautiful  skies,  but  if  he  wasn't  a  Mexican 
half-breed,  I  never  saw  one.  Yet  he  wras  a  great  juggler,  all 
the  same — he  could  turn  a  glass  of  whisky  into  a  man  with  a 
facility  I  have  never  seen  equalled !  He  performed  this  great 
act  repeatedly  during  the  evening,  and  the  same  man  ap- 
peared each  time!  Oh,  he  was  uniformly  smooth  in  his  per- 
formances, Pranzini  was! 

"As  our  guests  warmed  up  to  the  evening's  work,  we 
learned  that  there  was  another  treat  in  store  for  us.  The 
ladies — two  in  number — wrhom  we  had  observed  disembark- 
ing from  the  stage  in  company  with  the  distinguished  per- 
formers that  I  have  enumerated — were  the  most  renowned 
artistes  in  their  line  in  the  world.  The  elder — Haskell's  wife, 
by  the  way — was  the  most  famous  iron-jawed  woman  on  the 
American  continent.  Given  a  strap  that  would  reach  around 
the  earth,  and  a  place  to  stand  on,  she  could  double-discount 


542 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


the  wildest  dreams  of  old  Archimedes  himself.  The  younger 
female  was  the  renowned  danseuse  and  cantatrice — Mile.  Bot- 
tini,  beside  whom  Fanny  Ellsler  was  a  novice,  Taglioni  a 
counterfeit,  and  Jenny  Lind  a  crow!  Sing-?  Why,  Patti  in 
her  palmiest  days 
was  not  a  circum- 
stance to  that  moun- 
tain skylark! 

"By  the  time  we 
had  our  talented  vis- 
itors ready  for  bed 
— and  their  prepara- 
tion was  a  most  ex- 
pensive process  of 
pickling- — we  had 
mastered  the  pro- 
gramme of  the  great 
and  only  show,  fairly 
well.  After  putting 
our  friends  away  for 
the  night,  we  dis- 
persed, like  orderly 
and  sober  citizens. 

"  Mine  host  lo- 
cated all  of  our  help- 
less victims  in  one 
room,  as  far  away 
from  the  lady  per- 
formers as  possible, 
lest  the  latter  be  dis- 
turbed. He  didn't 
want  to  put  Haskell 
too  near  his  iron- 
jawed  wife,  fearing  there  might  be  a  necessity  of  postponing 
the  show  on  account  of  the  death  of  the  manager.  After  all, 
however,  the  performance  was  postponed  until  the  second 
day  after  our  welcoming  reception.  Our  hospitality  was  too 
much,  even  for  our  friend  the  prestidigitator.  He  saw  some 
things  for  a  few  hours,  that  even  he  couldn't  make  disappear — 


PRESTIDIGITATION    EXTRAORDINARY. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


543 


THEY   WOULD    NOT   DISAPPEAR. 


nor  was  their  appearance  a 
matter  of  volition  with  him 
by  any  means;  they  came 
as  unbidden  and  unwelcome 
guests. 

"•  The  eventful  evening 
of  the  performance  of  '  Has- 
kell's  Perambulating-  Varie- 
ties '  arrived  on  schedule 
time,  and  found  a  large  and 
appreciative  audience  await- 
ing- the  rise  of  the  curtain  in 
a  huge  canvas-roofed  shed, 
that  had  been  constructed 
regardless  of  expense,  espe- 
cially for  the  wonderful  and 
unrivalled  show. 

"I  have  seen  more  elab- 
orate temples  of  histrionic 
art,  but  I  must  acknowl- 
edge that  I  never  attended  a 
performance  in  which  the 
actors  blended  so  harmoni- 
ously with  their  surround- 
ings as  on  this  occasion. 

"The  performers  cer- 
tainly should  have  been  well 
satisfied  with  their  audi- 
ence, for  each  individual  had 
evidently  determined  to  get 
the  full  value  of  the  admis- 
sion fee,  by  being  enter- 
tained from  the  beginning 
to  the  end  of  the  show.  To 
be  sure,  Haskell's  ancient 
banjo  was  out  of  tune,  and 
his  voice  sounded  like  the 
wail  of  a  love-lorn,  bilious  cat, 
but  one  should  not  expect  too 


544  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

much  talent  in  one  individual.  Certain  it  is,  that  our  genial 
manager's  rendition  of  Hamlet's  soliloquy  was  not  only  orig- 
inal, but  as  emotional  as  the  remote  effects  of  our  camp 
whisky  could  make  it.  Really,  one  actually  forgot  the  nasal 
twang  with  which  it  was  rendered!  For  my  own  part,  while 
I  could  not  forget  the  probable  relation  of  enlarged  tonsils  or 
a  nasal  polypus,  to  HaskelPs  peculiar  intonation,  I  doubt 
whether  Henry  Irving  could  have  done  better — time,  place, 
stage,  audience  and  our  preliminary  reception  taken  into 
consideration. 

"  The  Major  occupied  a  seat  of  honor  close  to  the  stage, 
but  was  hardly  as  attentive  an  auditor  as  could  have  been 
desired — he  was  conspicuously  asleep  most  of  the  time.  The 
boys,  however,  were  disposed  to  allow  the  old  man  to  enjoy 
the  performance  after  his  own  fashion,  so  he  was  not  dis- 
turbed for  some  time.  Even  when  his  vibrating  snore  bade 
fair  to  smother  the  orchestra,  his  friends  permitted  him  to  go 
on  with  his  soul-harrowing  imitation  of  a  steam  calliope. 

"The  wonderful  acrobats,  the  marvelous  expositor  of 
the  black  art,  and  the  terpsichorean  prodigy — Murphy- 
came  and  went,  receiving  most  vociferous  applause,  but  the 
Major  went  on  with  his  work  as  serenely  as  though  variety 
troupes  were  an  every-day  occurrence  with  him. 

"  The  iron-jawed  lady  now  appeared  and  began  her  re- 
markable exhibition.  The  boys,  being  gallant,  thought  the 
time  for  awakening  the  Major  had  arrived,  and  those  sit- 
ting nearest  him,  began  a  series  of  systematic  punchings  and 
pinchings  that  finally  succeeded  in  arousing  the  old  war- 
rior. 

"The  Major  was  confessedly  a  gallant  man,  but  the 
maxillary  wonder  did  not  long  hold  his  attention.  He  sat 
there  blinking  like  a  sleepy  old  owl  for  a  minute  or  two,  and 
then  dropped  back  into  his  musical  slumber,  while  the  boys 
gave  up  in  despair. 

"The  lady  with  the  iron  jaw  finally  disappeared,  and 
after  a  brief  intermission — during  which  Haskell's  banjo 
almost  drove  the  audience  crazy — the  star  of  the  evening 
appeared,  and  was  welcomed  with  a  tremendous  hand-clap- 
ping suggestive  of  a  pistol  volley. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  545 

"Mile.  Bottini  was  not  a  beauty.  Nature  had  been  by 
no  means  liberal  in  her  adornment,  but  she  was  young-  enough 
to  impress  the  boys,  and  dressed  in  a  fashion  that  would  have 
created  an  impression  anywhere — on  or  off  the  stage. 

"A  critical  observer  would  have  noticed  that  her  hair  was 
the  color  of  well-washed  fine-cut  tobacco,  and  her  eyes  of  a 
grayish-green  hue,  framed  by  those  character! stically  red 
and  tumefied  lids  so  often  seen  in  bleary  blondes.  Scrofula, 
dissipation  and  weeping-,  may  all  have  had  their  influence  in 
the  formation  of  the  lig-hts  and  shades  of  those  dreamy  orbs 
—but  dreamy  they  certainly  were;  their  lustre  was  that  of 
the  eyes  of  a  dead  mackerel. 

"The  same  critical  observer  mig-ht  have  taken  exception 
to  the  contour  of  her  face;  it  was  a  bit  too  ang-ular — the  nose 
too  Romanesque  and  the  chin  too  pointed,  to  conform  strictly 
to  the  ideal.  Her  complexion  too,  was  not  unexceptionable — 
there  was  a  '  freckles  smothered  in  cream  '  quality  about  it, 
to  which  the  truly  artistic  critic  would  certainly  have  objected. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  carry  my  analysis  beyond  the  bounds 
of  strictest  propriety,  but  the  man  who  could  enthuse  over 
the  female  form  divine  as  exemplified  by  Mile.  Bottini,  must 
either  be  un-artistic,  or  a  miner,  upon  whose  vision  beauty 
has  not  dawned  for  many  moons. 

"Her  scrawny  neck — sug-g-estive  of  that  of  a  Christmas 
turkey  after  it  has  been  picked — and  those  skinny  arms, 
spoke  for  themselves  in  terms  of  accentuation  that  could  not 
be  mistaken. 

"But  our  divinity  had  other  charms,  which  her  g-org-eous 
thoug-h  somewhat  scanty  costume  'half  concealed  and  yet 
revealed  '  to  our  admiring-  g-aze.  Those  limbs! — Would  I  had 
power  to  describe  their  many  points  of  beauty  !  In  the  first 
place  they  were  number  tens — her  limbs,  not  her  feet;  thev 
were  only  sevens.  As  the  lady  herself  was  about  a  number 
five,  there  seemed  to  be  a  lack  of  harmony  somewhere. 

"I  thoug-ht  I  understood  the  anatomical  discord,  and 
called  the  attention  of  my  friend  Mapes,  who  sat  next  to  me, 
to  sundry  tumorous  irregularities  here  and  there  upon  those 
wonderful  legs.  I  suggested  inequalities  of  upholstering, 
but  Jerry  scornfully  informed  me  that  dancers  always  had 


546  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

very  muscular  lower  extremities.  He  seemed  astonished 
and  grieved  at  my  scientific  ignorance,  so  I  said  nothing- 
more  upon  the  subject.  It  was  evident  that  my  opinion 
weighed  but  little  in  the  balance  with  Mile.  Bottini's  popu- 
larity. 

"I  suppose  that  some  might  quarrel  with  the  view  that  a 
man  is  a  slave  to  his  destiny,  but  if  the  Major's  unlucky  star 
was  not  in  the  ascendant  that  night— well,  then  there  is  no 
explanation  for  his  conduct.  He  had  slept  throughout  almost 
the  entire  performance,  and  there  was  no  earthly  reason  why 
he  should  have  awakened  when  he  did,  unless  the  Fates  were 
pursuing  him.  Whatever  the  explanation  may  have  been, 
however,  the  old  man  awoke  just  after  the  entree  of  our  star. 

"Whether  the  half-dreamy  state  that  follows  and  pre- 
cedes our  slumbers,  made  the  Major's  mind  susceptible  to 
even  the  suggestion  of  female  beauty,  I  do  not  know,  but  no 
effort  was  now  required  to  keep  him  awake.  He  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  stood  gazing  at  the  charming  Bottini,  as  if  en- 
tranced. Not  a  note  of  her  rasping  soprano  voice,  not  a 
movement  of  those  tripping  feet,  escaped  him.  And  when 
the  time  for  applause  came,  the  Major's  bony  hands  and 
stentorian  voice  made  the  very  walls  vibrate. 

"With  the  innocent  coyness  of  her  craft,  the  object  of 
the  Major's  admiration  appreciated  the  situation,  and  gave 
the  Major  a  smile  such  as  would  have  made  a  much  less 
valiant  knight  than  he,  willing  to  die  with  his  boots  on,  if 
need  be — in  behalf  of  fair  woman. 

"Now,  our  boys  were  square  fellows,  and  while  many  a 
heart  beneath  that  canvas  had  been  throbbing  in  unison  with 
the  pattering  of  Bottini's  fairy  feet,  there  was  not  a  man 
among  them  who  would  have  quarreled  with  the  Major  over 
his  evident  conquest.  They  took  their  heartaches  home  and 
— pickled  them. 

"The  performance  over,  the  boys  left  for  their  usual 
haunts,  some  going  home,  as  did  a  few  of  our  visitors  from 
neighboring  camps,  but  the  majority  scattering  about  among 
our  various  saloons  and  gambling  houses. 

"It  so  happened  that  Jerry  Mapes,  the  Major  and  myself, 
became  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  crowd,  hence  we  walked 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


547 


along-  together  toward  home.     The  Major  had  little  to  say — 
for  once  he  was  subdued  and  reticent.     It  was  evident  that 

our  gallant  postmaster  was  hard 
hit !  Jerry  and  I  apparently 
agreed  on  this  point,  judging 
from  the  significant  looks  he 
gave  me  from  time  to  time.  We 
kept  our  own  counsel,  however, 


A  DECIDED  IMPRESSION. 


and  awaited  the  Major's  pleasure.  I  felt  quite  certain  that 
the  old  man  would  himself  open  up  the  subject  of  the  show 
before  we  left  him,  and  I  therefore  did  not  push  matters. 


548 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


"When  we  arrived  at  Hewlett's  place,  Jerry  had  developed 
a  thirst  that  was  prodigious,  and  suggested  that  we  enter 
and  have  something.  To  our  astonishment,  the  Major  de- 
murred at  first,  and  it  was  only  upon  strenuous  urging  that 
we  succeeded  in  getting"  him  into  the  saloon — and  then,  to 
our  consternation,  he  refused  to  drink! 

"  Matters  were  certainly  growing  serious  with  our  mili- 
tary friend.  That  Jerry  thought  so,  was  evident  from  his 
somewhat  troubled,  bewildered  expression.  When  he  finally 
gave  up  urging  the  old  man  to  drink, 
as  a  hopeless  task,  his  face  was  a 
study  in  serio-comedy. 

"The  Major's  new-born  preju- 
dice, however,  evidently  did  not 
extend  to  doctors'  offices — which 
shows  that  he  did  not  always  choose 
the  lesser  of  two  evils.  He  readily 
consented  to  enter  my  humble  quar- 
ters and  watch  Jerry  and  me  take  a 
night  cap.  His  sudden  reform 
lasted  only  until  the  aroma  of  that 
hair-raising-,  soul-consuming  liquor 
reached  his  nostrils — and  then  he 
weakened,  and  allowed  that  the  air 
ivas  somewhat  chilly  and  damp,  and 
a  little  whisky  might  be  a  good  thing 
— in  the  way  of  preventive  medica- 
tion. What  he  was  trying  to  pre-  \ 

vent,  I  don't  know,  but  I  suspect  it  must  have  been  rattle- 
snake bites,  judging  by  the  huge  doses  he  took. 

"  The  Major's  system  of  prophylaxis  was  much  like  that 
of  a  clever  Indian  on  the  Sioux  Reservation.  The  govern- 
ment prudently  allowed  no  whisky  to  be  sold  to  the  Indians 
save  for  medicinal  purposes.  One  morning  a  big  buck  put 
in  his  appearance  at  the  agency,  with  a  huge  demijohn.— 

"'Ugh!'  he  said,  kBig  Injun!  heap  sick,  want  whisky !> 

"'What's  the  matter  with  you,  Lo?'  asked  the  agency 
doctor. 

"  '  Ugh !'  said  Lo,  '  snake  bite  um.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  549 

"'Well,'  said  the  doctor,  'how  much  whisky  do  you 
want?1 

" '  Four  quarts!'  replied  the  artless  child  of  the  prairies. 

"  '  Four  quarts9'  said  the  doctor,  in  amazement. 

"'Huh!  huh!  four  quarts!'  said  the  buck,  'heap  big 
Injun!  h — 1  big-  snake!  plenty  heap  rattles!' ' 


"Under  the  mellowing-  influence  of  my  hospitality,  the 
Major  rapidly  became  at  least  a  semblance  of  his  old  self 
again.  With  his  transformation  he  became  once  more  the 
g-enial  companion,  exuberant  in  spirits  and  overwhelming-  in 
his  confidences.  Most  g~ently  did  we  lead  his  thoug-hts  back 
to  the  shrine  before  which  he  had  laid  his  heart  of  hearts. 
Strong  as  was  his  new  passion;  it  was  no  match  for  the  cup  of 
cheer  with  which  my  larder  was  so  bountifully  supplied! 
That  fiery  stuff  would  have  made  a  prospective  bridegroom 
forg-et  his  engagement,  to  say  nothing-  of  disturbing-  a  senti- 
mental attachment  as  recent  as  was  our  g-allant  Major's! 

"  'Do  you  know,  Major,'  I  said,  as  I  slyly  poked  the  old 
man  in  the  short  ribs,  'that  you  are  a  sly  old  dog-?  I  have 
always  thoug-ht  that  you  were  a  warrior  of  the  old  school. 
I  did  not  know  that  you  were  addicted  to  that  modern  de- 
moralizing- addition  to  the  art  of  war — flirtation.  Why,  sir, 
if  you  were  a  West  Pointer,  instead  of  a  man  who  has  carved 
his  way  to  name  and  fame  with  his  own  sturdy  sword,  I 
might  understand  it,  but  for  you  to  conduct  yourself  as  you 
have  this  evening  is  simply  astonishing!  Don't  you  realize, 
sir.  that  trifling  with  the  tender  affections  of  a  young-  and 
innocent  female  is  a  very  serious  matter?' 

"'W'y,  ma  deah  doctah,  I  ha'dly  think  I  comprehend 
yo'.  suh!'  blushingly  replied  the  Major.  '  Yo'  are  speakin' 
in  rathah  puzzlin'  terms,  suh.' 

" '  Now,  see  here,  my  dear  Major,  it  cannot  be  possible 
that  the  attention  which  was  lavished  upon  you  by  Mile.  Bottini 
this  evening,  was  entirely  unsolicited  by  you.  I  am  fully 
aware,  sir,  that  you  are  a  man  of  great  culture  and  very  im- 
posing presence,  but  I  cannot  believe  it  possible  that  a  lady 
of  such  varied  charms,  and  so  much  innate  modesty,  could 


550  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

deliberately  throw  herself  at  you,  as  she  most  assuredly  did 
at  this  evening's  performance.' 

"  'Now,  ma  deah  doctah,  yo'  are  tryin'  to  flattah  me,  I'm 
suah,  an'  yo'  sut'nly  emba'ss  me,  suh.  I'm  suah  yo'  are 
mistaken,  suh;  I'm  quite  suah  yo'  are!'  said  the  old  gallant, 
with  a  fine  show  of  embarrassment. 

"  'Mistaken?'  I  replied,  'Not  the  least  bit  in  the  world. 
But  what  surprises  me,  sir,  is  that  a  man  of  your  age  and 
discretion,  should  be  so  versed  in  the  delicate  art  of  flirtation 
as  to  make  a  conquest  of  so  magnificent  a  creature  under  the 
very  eyes  of  men  who  are  so  many  years  your  junior,  and 
who,  moreover,  have  undoubtedly  cultivated  the  fair  sex 
much  more  assiduously  than  yourself. 

"  '  The  opportunities  for  cultivation  of  the  highest  art  of 
flirtation  and  the  conquest  of  the  female  heart,  are  by  no 
means  extensive  in  this  camp,  and  I'm  sure  that  your  feats  of 
arms  in  past  years,  must  have  left  you  very  little  time  to  pour 
honeyed  words  into  the  ears  of  listening  fair.  I  fear,  my  dear 
sir,  that  your  European  trip  was  not  entirely  devoted  to  hob- 
nobbing with  crowned  heads — you  gay  old  lady-killer  you!' ' 

"  'Well,  gentlemen,'  said  the  Major,  as  he  drew  himself 
up  until  he  almost  bumped  a  hole  in  my  roof — there  was  no 
ceiling — 'I  mus'  confess  that  I  did  notice  an  appa'ent  pref 'unce 
fo'  ma  consida'ation  on  the  pa't  of  the  young  lady  whom  yo' 
mention.  I  was  in  hopes,  suhs,  that  yo' all  would  not  observe 
a  mattah  of  such  triflin'  impo'tance.  It  is  true,  gentlemen, 
that  I  have  arrived  at  a  somewhat  matuah  age,  but  yo'  mus' 
remembah,  suhs,  that  manly  attractions  ripen  with  advancin' 
yeahs.  Was  it  not,  ah — Lama'tine,  who  observed  that  swift 
runnin'  sap  an'  shiftin'  shades  were  the  attributes  of  the 
young  tree,  but  that  there  was  mo'  fiah  in  the  heart  of  a 
sturdy  old  oak? 

"  '  Wall,  Major,'  Jerry  remarked,  '  if  thet  ole  feller  Lam- 
merteen,  er  whut  ever  ye  call  'im,  hed  hed  a  few  ole  sogers 
like  yerself  ter  study,  he'd  er  bin  posted  on  fires  in  ther 
woods,  ter  say  nuthin'  uv  a  ole  oak,  eh,  Doc?' 

"  'Ah,  my  dear  Jerry!'  I  said,  'I  fear  that  the  woods  arc 
on  fire  in  the  Major's  case.  I  more  than  half  believe — nay,  I 
am  sure  that  this  affair  is  not  as  one-sided  as  we  at  first 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  551 

suspected.  I  am  really  convinced  that  our  gallant  Major  is 
desperately  in  love  with  the  fair  artiste.  There  must  be 
something1  in  love  at  first  sight,  after  all.  It  seems  to  me,  how- 
ever, Jerry,  that  congratulations  are  due  the  Major.  He  has 
certainly  displayed  most  excellent  taste.  Indeed,  I  have 
never  seen  a  more  beautiful  and  talented  creature.  Alas! 
Jerry,  I  believe  the  Majof  is  right,  we  of  a  younger  genera- 
tion are  not  in  the  race  with  such  men  as  he.  They  have  not 
only  superior  attractions,  but  the  ripened  taste  of  the  exper- 
ienced connoisseur."1— 

"It  was  Thackeray,  was  it  not,  my  boy,  who  said,  in  his 
'Age  of  Wisdom  ' — 

'  Curly  gold  locks  cover  foolish  brains, 
Billing-  and  cooing  are  all  your  cheer, 
Sighing,  and  singing  of  midnight  strains 
Under  Bonnybell's  window  panes. 
Wait  till  you've  come  to  forty  year  ! 

'  Forty  times  over  let  Michaelmas  pass — 
Grizzling  hair  the  brain  doth  clear. 
Then  you'll  know  the  worth  of  a  lass  ; 
Then  you'll  know  that  a  boy  is  an  ass, 
Once  you  have  come  to  forty  year. ' 

"Had  Thackeray  not  written  the  very  sentiment  I  wanted, 
I  should  have  endeavored  to  compose  something  similar,  even 
though  not  so  beautiful,  and  dedicated  it  to  the  memory  of 
Major  Merriwether.— 

"Jerry  agreed  with  me,  as  to  the  Major's  finesse  in  cap- 
tivating our  queen  of  the  stage,  and  allowed  that  the  boys 
were  'jealus  'nuff  ter  shoot  enny body  but  ther  Major,  on  sight. 
An'  I  dunno,'  said  he,  with  a  comical  wink,  'but  whut  some 
uv  ther  boys  would  er  tackled  him,  ef  he  wuzn't  so  handy  with 
his  shooter.  Ye  see,  Doc,  thar  aint  nobody  'roun'  hyar,  ez 
likes  ter  mix  up  with  ther  Major  et  enny  time,  an'  I'm  shore 
we  air  goin'  ter  be  keerful  when  thar's  er  lady  in  ther  case.' 

"By  this  time,  the  Major  had  become  so  inflated  with 
pride  and  self-satisfaction,  that  he  resembled  a  vain  old 
turkey-cock. — 

"  '  W'y,  ma  deah  suhs,  yo'  sut'nly  flattah  me,  but  I  can 
assuah  yo'  that  yo'  emba'ss  me  quite  as  much  as  yo'  flattah 


552  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

me!  To  be  hones'  with  yo',  I  b'lieve,  masef,  that  I  am  to  be 
congratulated,  suhs.  The  lady  is  the  mos'  beaut'ful  creatuah 
I  evah  saw,  suhs,  an'  I  sut'nly  think  that  she  looked  upon  ma 
admirin'  attention  with  some  favah  this  evenin'.  I  should 
regret  exceedin'ly,  any  bittah  feelin's  on  the  pa'tof  ma  fellah 
cit'zens,  suhs,  but  I  assuah  yo',  gentlemen,  that  I  stan'  ready 
to  champion  the  lady's  cause  an'  to  hold  out  fo'  ma  own  rights 
in  this  affaih,  at  all  times  an'  undah  all  circumstances,  as  a 
gentleman  should,  suhs! 

"  'I  trust  that  ma  fellah  cit'zens  will  be  discreet  in  this 
mattah,  suhs,  but  I  shall  sutn'ly  stan'  no  foolishness,  even  on 
the  pa't  of  ma  fren's.  The  lady  has  the  right  to  bestow  her 
attentions  on  anyone  she  pleases,  suhs,  an'  if  I  happen  to  be 
the  objec'  of  her  buddin'  affections,  that,  suhs,  is  her  affaih 
— an'  mine!' 

"As  the  Major  delivered  himself  of  this  peroration,  he 
looked  the  blood-thirsty  fire-eater,  through  and  through. 

'"Thet's  right,  Maje!'  said  Jerry,  'an'  me  an'  Doc, 
hvar,  '11  stan'  right  by  ye  in  enny  little  erfair  ye  mout  git 
inter.  With  me  fer  yer  second,  an'  Doc  ter  look  arter  ther 
wounded,  y'u  aint  likely  ter  hev  er  heap  er  trubble  'round 
hyar,  you  bet!' 

"'Well,  Major,'  I  said,  'we  will  have  one  more  bumper 
to  the  health  of  the  peerless  Bottini,  and  then  we  must  all  go 
to  bed.' 

"The  bumper  having  been  drunk,  our  little  party  broke 
up.  *  Jerry  meandered  homeward  to  peaceful  and  contented 
slumber,  the  Major  retired  to  the  post-office  to  dream  of 
Bottini,  the  magnificent,  while  I — well,  I  dreamed  that  I  was 
cutting  off  several  sections  of  legs  and  arms  for  the  Major 
on  the  field  of  honor,  and  trimming  him  down  to  decent  pro- 
portions." 

"The  'Perambulating  Varieties'  was  billed  for  two  per- 
formances in  E .  The  programme  of  the  second,  was  to 

be  somewhat  different  from  that  of  the  opening  night,  hence 
the  genial  Mr.  Haskell  expected  quite  as  large  an  attendance 
as  at  the  first  performance.  In  this  he  was  not  disappointed, 
for,  according  to  all  accounts,  everybody  again  turned  out  in 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  553 

force.  As  Jerry  Mapes  expressed  it,  '  Thar  mout  be  better 
shows  than  ole  HaskelPs,  but  then,  ergin,  thar  mout  be  wuss, 
an'  ez  ther  boys  hedn't  seed  much  op'ry  lately,  they  jes' 
nachully  made  ther  most  er  ther  thing-  an'  turned  out  good 
an'  strong-.' 

"  I  was  not  present  at  the  second  performance — a  miner 
with  a  broken  leg-  furnished  a  rival  attraction  that  was  too 
urg-ent  and  too  tempting-  to  be  resisted — far  more  tempting-, 
in  fact,  than  the  prospective  view  of  Mile.  Bottini's  bunchy, 
but  none  the  less  surg-ically-sound,  extremities. 

"  The  Major,  I  was  informed,  was  in  his  seat  of  the 
previous  evening-,  bright  and  early — as  was  becoming-  in  so 
gallant  a  swain.  No  love-lorn,  callow  youth  could  have  been 
more  faithful — or  better  rewarded. 

"Bottini,  it  seems,  had  been  making-  inquiries  regarding 
her  all -too-ardent  admirer,  and  had  learned  what  an  import- 
ant individual  he  really  was.  The  fair  creature  was  more 
captivating-  than  ever — she  fairly  beamed  upon  the  Major! 
Others  saw  her  divine  dancing-;  others  heard  her  wonderful 
voice,  but  'twas  for  Major  Merriwether  alone  that  she  sang-; 
'twas  for  him  alone  that  her  fairy  feet  twinkled  through  the 
mazes  of  her  bewildering-  repertoire  of  dances;  'twas  for  him 
alone  that  she  lived,  breathed  and  palpitated;  'twas  for  him 
she — well,  she  saw  how  the  land  lay  as  well  as  any  one  in  the 
audience,  and  used  her  powers  of  captivation  to  the  very  best 
advantage.  And  she  was  no  novice,  either — she  was  a  rare 
example  of  what  an  energ-etic,  progressive  woman  can  do,  in 
spite  of  any  and  all  handicaps  that  Nature  may  impose  upon 
her. 

"At  the  conclusion  of  the  performance,  the  Major  avoided 
even  his  friend  Mapes,  much  to  that  gentleman's  discomfiture. 
Some  of  the  boys  observed  the  old  man  dodging-  along  past 
the  saloons  toward  the  post-office,  and  marvelled  much  at  the 
change  that  had  taken  place  in  him. 

"According  to  Jerry,  some  of  the  Major's  friends 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  fair  Bottini  had  turned  the 
old  man's  head — which  was  already  impaired  by  our  camp 
whisky — so  completely,  that  he  had  gone  daft  and  had  even 
forgotten  his  favorite  beverage. 


554  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"As  the  old  man  was  still  staggering-  next  morning, 
under  the  load  of  private  stock  that  he  had  consumed  the 
night  before,  it  was  evident  that  he  had  recovered  his  thirst- 
inspiring  recollection  as  soon  as  he  came  within  range  of  his 
own  demijohn. 

"At  a  solemn  conference  held  at  the  Minerva  that  night 
after  the  show,  it  was  resolved  that  the  matter  was  no  longer 
a  joke— the  Major  was  in  imminent  danger,  and  something 
must  be  done! 

"To  be  sure,  the  old  fellow  had  not  even  spoken  to  the 
object  of  his  adoration,  as  yet,  but  that  was  only  a  question 
of  time,  and  if  he  conducted  himself  so  peculiarly  on  so  slight 
an  acquaintance,  there  was  no  telling  what  might  happen, 
when  the  fair  temptress  had  an  opportunity  to  exert  her 
wiles  upon  him  to  the  best  advantage. 

"  '  Wy,'  said  Jerry  Mapes,  '  ther  d — d  ole  fool  mout  take 
er  notion  ter  jes'  mosey  erway,  arter  thet  woman,  an'  thet  ud 
never  do!  I  tell  yer  whut,  boys,  ther  prosper 'ty  uv  this  'ere 
town  is  in  danger,  an'  we've  got  ter  look  out.  We  kaint  'low 
ther  pore  ole  Major's  innercent  affeckshuns  ter  be  trifled 
with,  an'  we've  got  ter  stop  this  'ere  little  game  somehow?' 

"It  was  finally  decided  that  the  danger  would,  after  all, 
be  but  short-lived.  The  variety  troupe  was  to  leave  town  the 
following  day,  and  if  the  Major  could  only  be  kept  in  a  bliss- 
fully intoxicated  condition  until  the  fair  one's  departure,  all 
would  be  well.  She  was  but  a  passing  fantasy  of  the  old 
man's  much-abused  brain,  and  was  not  likely  to  make  a  last- 
ing impression  upon  him. 

"A  committee  was  accordingly  appointed  for  the  purpose 
of  haunting  the  old  man  until  the  departure  of  Haskell  and  his 
attractions — Jerry  Mapes  himself  officiating  as  one  of  the 
delegation. 

"There  was  no  great  difficulty  in  carrying  out  the  plans 
of  the  committee.  The  Major  was  pretty  well  'corned'  when 
the  boys  found  him  next  morning,  and  the  subsequent  treat- 
ment was  a  very  simple  process  of  piling  Pelion  upon  Ossa. 
The  boys  were  gleeful  over  the  success  of  their  scheme — by 
dinner  time  the  Major  had  forgotten  the  very  existence  of  the 
object  of  his  fancy. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  555 

"But  a  little  circumstance  that  occurred  during-  the  after- 
noon, completely  upset  the  committee's  calculations.  A  ter- 
rific rain  storm  blew  up,  and  long-  before  evening-  came,  it  was 
evident  that  there  was  no  hope  of  the  arrival  of  the  usual 
stag-e,  for  that  day  at  least.  Our  to\vn  was  small,  and  received 
very  little  attention  from  the  stag-e  company  in  bad  weather. 

"  The  awful  truth  at  leng-th  dawned  upon  the  boys — Mile. 
Bottini  couldn't  g-et  out  of  town  if  she  would! 

"  '  D — n  sich  luck!'  quoth  Jerry,  'I  spose  we'll  be  tied  up 
hyar  fer  a  hull  week!  No  stag-e,  no  letters,  no  nuthin' — an' 
thet  d — d  variety  show  locked  in  hyar  with  us!  Wall,  ef  thet 
aint  dead-tough  luck,  then  I  dunno  whut  in  h — 1  toug-h  luck  is.' 

"Jerry  was  right;  it  was  fully  ten  days  before  the 
weather  and  roads  would  permit  our  now7  unwelcome  visitors 
to  depart. 

"  Here  was  a  quandary  !  It  would  hardly  do  to  keep  the 
Major  drunk  all  the  time — his  recent  illness  was  still  fresh 
in  the  minds  of  his  fellow  townsmen.  His  intimates  knew 
my  professional  opinion  of  the  probable  results  of  another 
attack  of  jim-jams.  There  was  only  one  thing-  to  be  done 
and  that  was  to  call  further  counsel,  and  I  was  unfortunately 
selected. 

"  The  committee  waited  on  me  pro  forma,  and  my  advice 
in  the  emergency  was  most  earnestly  asked  for.  The  case 
was  by  no  means  a  novel  one;  I  had  heard  of  many  such,  but 
I  had  never  been  called  to  attend  one,  hence  my  knowledge  of 
the  remedies  for  such  a  psycho-cardiac  disturbance  as  was 
just  then  threatening  the  destruction  of  my  friend,  the  Major, 
was  rather  meag-er.  Instead  of  being-  perfectly  frank,  how- 
ever, and  confessing-  my  inability  to  assist  in  stopping-  the 
Major  in  his  downward  career,  I  allowed  my  public  spirit  to 
get  the  better  of  my  professional  discretion — to  the  utter  ruin 
of  the  poor  old  man,  as  will  appear  later. 

"After  some  thoughtful  deliberation,  I  said,  'Gentlemen, 
I  believe  our  friend,  the  Major,  can  only  be  cured  by  making 
him  realize  the  absurdity  of  falling  in  love  with  a  public  char- 
acter of  such  uncertain  charms  and  still  more  uncertain 
reputation.  The  old  man,  I  suspect,  has  more  education  and 
refinement  than  you  have  ever  given  him  credit  for,  and  I  am 


556  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

sure  that  if  we  can  but  get  the  case  before  him  in  just  the 
right  way,  we  will  be  able  to  convince  him  of  his  folly,  without 
much  difficulty.  I  am  certain  that  the  infatuation  which  the 
Major  has  manifested  for  our  fair  visitor,  is  only  another 
phase  of  the  overdone  gallantry  of  the  old  man.  It  is  the 
sentimental  adoration  of  a  modern  knight  errant,  whose 
romantic  ideas  are  centered  upon  Mile.  Bottini,  for  want  of 
a  worthier  object.' ' 

"  '  Wall,  Doc,'  said  Jerry,  '  Yer  talkin'  er  little  too  much 
like  er  book  fer  us  fellers  ter  ketch  holt  uv  whut  yer  say  in', 
but  I  reckon  we  kin  foller  yer  drift.  Yore  idee,  ez  near  ez  I 
kin  surround  it,  is  ter  kinder  critercise  ther  gal,  an'  make  th' 
ole  man  ershamed  uv  hisself.' 

"  '  Well,  yes,'  I  replied,  '  that  is  essentially  my  plan.' 

"'Wall,  Doc,'  said  Jerry,  grinningly,  'yore  idee  is  all 
right,  only  yer  fergittin'  one  pint.' 

"  '  And  what  is  that  ? '  I  asked. 

"  '  W'y,  th'  ole  Major  is  er  fire-eater  frum  'way  back,  an' 
some  on  us  is  likely  ter  hev  er  fight  on  his  han's.' 

"'The  very  thing,  Jerry!  I  had  not  thought  of  that! 
There's  a  trap  that  the  old  man  will  fall  into  sure.  Let's 
give  him  a  chance  for  one  of  those  'affaihs  of  honah,  suh,' 
that  he  brags  so  much  about! 

"  Let  a  party  of  the  boys  draw  him  into  conversation,  and, 
during  it's  progress,  have  somebody,  and  it  matters  not  who, 
make  a  few  disparaging  remarks  about  the  fair  Bottini.  With 
you  to  egg  the  old  man  on,  we  are  sure  to  hear  something 
drop.  The  old  chap's  Quixotic  notions  may  lead  him  to  do 
what  his  lack  of  courage  would  ordinarily  prevent.  With  a 
duel  on  his  hands,  even  though  it  be  a  'fake,'  his  chivalric 
ambition  will  be  gratified — temporarily  at  least.  Certain  it 
is  that  we  can  scare  Bottini  out  of  his  mind  till  she  gets  out  of 
town ! ' 

"'By  ther  gre't  etarnal,  boys!'  exclaimed  Jerry,  'Doc, 
hyar,  hez  got  er  gre't  head  on  'im.  Book  larnin'  an'  hoss 
sense  don't  allus  go  tergether,  but  he's  got  'em  both,  ye  kin 
jes'  bet  on  thet!  Now,  ther  nex'  question  is,  who  ter  git  fer 
ther  trajucer  uv  ther  but'ful  Boteeny.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  557 

"  'If  you  will  permit  me  to  make  a  suggestion,  gentle- 
men, '  I  said,  'I  would  advise  you  to  get  some  stranger  to 
assume  the  role  of  the  villain  in  our  comedy  drama.  The 
Major  would  hardly  care  to  challenge  one  of  his  own  friends 
— the  more  especially  as  he  knows  the  shooting1  credentials 
of  all  his  fellow  citizens.  He  would  hardly  hesitate  to  call  out 
a  tenderfoot,  however,  for  experience  has  taught  him  that  the 
boys  can  be  relied  on  to  see  him  through.  A  duel  is  a  little 
different  from  your  impromptu  shooting  matinees,  but  it  will 
be  interesting  to  see  how  far  we  can  carry  the  affair,  before 
the  Major  crawls  out,  as  he  certainly  will  do.  Indeed,  we 
may  have  a  chance  to  observe  a  new  and  original  method  of 
evading  the  issue. 

"  '  From  what  I  have  learned  of  the  class  of  persons  who 
compose  the  average  strolling  company  of  histrionic  artists,  I 
infer  that  they  are  always  open  to  engagements  in  which 
there  is  likely  to  be  profit.  Now,  I  fancy  that  our  quondam 
friend,  Pranzini,  the  sleight-of-hand  performer,  would  be  just 
the  man  for  our  purpose.  As  disappearing  is  right  in  his 
line,  it  will  not  be  at  all  dishonorable  for  him  to  vanish  from 
the  battle-field,  if  the  Major  goes  into  the  affair  too  earnestly. 
I  would  suggest,  therefore,  that  you  call  on  Pranzini  and 
make  such  terms  with  him  as  you  may  see  fit.  I  will  myself 
drop  into  the  hotel  this  evening,  and  will  engage  to  bring  the 
Major  with  me.  I  leave  the  rest  to  your  own  ingenuity, 
assuring  you  that  I  will  further  the  scheme  in  any  way  that 
lean.' 

"  Evening  arrived,  and  I  proceeded  to  call  upon  my  friend 
the  Major,  for  the  nefarious  purpose  of  persuading  him  to 
accompany  me  to  the  hotel — in  accordance  with  the  plan  of 
campaign  that  the  boys  and  myself  had  mapped  out. 

"There  was  little  difficulty  in  fulfilling  my  part  of  the 
arrangement.  I  found  the  Major  in  the  act  of  applying  the 
finishing  touches  to  an  elaborate  toilet.  It  was  hardly  neces- 
sary for  me  to  inquire  the  reason  for  his  gorgeousness  of 
apparel.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  preparing  to  make  a  call 
at  the  hotel  on  his  own  account;  it  was  also  apparent  that  he 
was  not  anxious  to  receive  callers — I  fancied  that  his  face 
elongated  somewhat  as  I  entered  his  quarters. 


558  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  'Ah,  ma  deah  doctah,  I'm  glad  to  see  yo',  suh,  but  I'm 
sorry  to  say  that  I  have  a  little  engagement  which  will  pre- 
vent me  from  enta'tainin'  yo'  fo'  any  length  of  time,  suh.' 

'"It  was  hardly  necessary  to  state  that  you  had  an  en- 
gagement, my  dear  Major,'  I  replied.  'It  is  very  evident 
from  your  magnificent  toilet,  that  you  have  an  affair  of  con- 
siderable importance  upon  your  hands.  I  am  inclined  to 
believe,  moreover,  that  there  is  a  lady  in  the  case.  You  are 
certainly  preparing  yourself  with  an  elaborateness  of  detail, 
which  is — well,  suspicious,  to  say  the  least.' 

'"Well,  suh,'  replied  the  Major,  'to  be  frank  with  yo', 
suh,  I  ^uas  contemplatin'  an  evenin'  call  on  a  lady  of  ma 
'quaintance,  suh.' 

"  '  Well,'  I  said,  '  I  am  not  much  of  a  ladies'  man,  myself, 
but  I  nevertheless  appreciate  the  fact  that  affairs  of  the 
heart  must  take  precedence  of  all  other  interests.  Excuses 
are  therefore  unnecessary,  the  more  especially  as  it  is  not 
my  intention  to  tarry  for  any  length  of  time.  I  simply 
dropped  in  to  see  whether  you  were  going  toward  the  hotel 
this  evening.  As  my  professional  duties  call  me  in  that 
direction,  I  thought  it  would  be  very  agreeable  to  have  your 
company.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  sir,  your  destination  is  sim- 
ilar to  my  own,  for  I  strongly  suspect  that  I  know  the  charm- 
ing lady  who  is  to  be  the  recipient  of  your  evening  call.  If  you 
have  no  objections,  therefore,  we  will  go  to  the  hotel  together.' 

"  'Ah,  ma  deah  doctah,  yo'  are  a  mos'  rema'kable  man, 
suh.  Yo'  are  almos'  clevah  'nuff  to  read  one's  mind,  suh. 
As  a  mattah  of  fact,  I  was  thinkin'  of  callin'  upon  the  dis- 
tinguished artiste,  Mile.  Bottini.  The  charmin'  creatuah,  I 
unda'stan',  has  been  compelled  to  sojo'n  a  little  while  longah 
in  ouah  midst,  on  account  of  the  inclemency  of  the  wethah, 
an'  I  was  about  to  pay  ma  respects  to  her.  I  assuah  yo',  suh, 
that  I  shall  be  mos'  highly  honahed  by  yo'  comp'ny  as  far  as 
the  hotel.' 

"  The  gallant  Major's  toilet  having  been  completed,  we 
strolled  as  leisurely  as  the  weather  would  permit,  toward 
the  hotel,  conversing  meanwhile  upon  the  multitudinous 
charms  and  extraordinary  histrionic  ability  of  the  object  of 
his  adoration. 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  559 

"Knowing-,  as  I  did,  the  programme  that  had  been  pre- 
pared for  the  Major's  edification,  I  was  more  than  enthusiastic 
in  my  encomiums  of  the  peerless  beauty  who  had  so  disturbed 
the  Major's  emotional  centers — to  say  nothing-  of  the  demorali- 
zation of  the  peace  and  quiet  of  our  little  community.  You 
may  be  assured  that  Mile.  Bottini's  charms  lost  nothing-  at 
my  hands. 

"By  the  time  we  arrived  at  the  Miner's  Rest,  the  Major's 
mind  was  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  ecstatic  admiration  of  his 
adored  one.  He  was  in  that  mental  condition  which  impels  an 
ardent  lover  to  seek  occasion  to  lay  down  his  life  for  the  delec- 
tation of  the  object  of  his  affections.  It  was  hardly  probable 
that  the  lady  in  this  particular  case  would  herself  demand  so 
great  a  sacrifice  upon  the  Major's  part.  Indeed,  if  the  plan 
that  we  had  arranged  was  successful,  it  was  doubtful  whether 
she  in  person  would  ever  g-et  an  opportunity  of  putting1  his 
ardent  passion  to  the  test.  It  was  necessary,  however,  to 
have  the  temperature  of  the  Major's  blood  elevated  a  few  de- 
grees above  the  normal,  in  order  to  insure  the  successful 
performance  of  the  little  programme  of  which  I  was  to  be,  in 
a  certain  sense,  the  g-eneral  manag-er. 

"Arriving-  at  the  hotel,  the  Major  showed  a  disposition 
to  dispense  with  my  entertaining-  society — and  protecting- 
umbrella. 

"  '  Now,  doctah,'  he  said,  '  I  hope  yo'  will  excuse  me,  suh, 
it's  rathah  late,  an'  I  do  not  desiah  to  emba'ss  ma  lady  fren' 
by  callin'  at  an  unseemly  houah.' 

"'Why,  my  dear  Major,' I  replied,  'I  couldn't  possibly 
think  of  allowing-  you  to  leave  me  without  a  social  drink. 
You  must  come  in  and  join  me!' 

"'Really,  I  hope  yo'  will  excuse  me,  suh,'  said  he,  'it's 
ha'dly  propah  to  indulg-e  in  intoxicatin'  liq'ah  befo'  callin' 
'pon  a  lady,  suh. ' 

"  'Quite  true,  sir,'  I  answered,  'I  agree  with  your  prop- 
osition as  a  general  principle ;  it  is,  however,  hardly  necessary 
to  be  so  conventional  here  in  the  West,  and  I  am  sure  that 
you  would  not  be  so  discourteous  to  a  friend  as  to  refuse  to 
drink  with  me.  Why,  sir,  I  should  consider  it  an  unpardon- 
able affront,  did  you  not  allow  me  the  opportunity  of  drinking- 


560  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

the  health  of  your  charmer.  You  certainly  cannot  decline  to 
join  me  in  so  praiseworthy  an  object.  Besides,  Major,  I  am 
satisfied  that  the  extraordinary  conversational  talent  which 
you  possess,  will  receive  an  added  brilliancy,  from  a  moderate 
indulgence  in  that  key  which  unlocks  all  languages.  You 
are  fascinating,  I  will  admit,  upon  all  occasions,  but  with 
a  moderate  amount  of  stimulation,  you  should  be  abso- 
lutely irresistible.  'Come  now,  old  fellow!'  I  said,  taking 
him  by  the  arm,  'let  us  go  in;  we  have  already  occupied  time 
enough  to  have  enabled  us  to  surround  several  drinks;  and 
economy  of  time,  sir,  while  commendable  on  all  occasions,  is 
especially  so  when  the  social  cup  is  in  prospect!' 

"The  Major  no  longer  resisted,  but  accompanied  me  into 
the  hotel  bar-room.  The  boys  were  expectantly  awaiting 
our  arrival,  judging  by  the  knowing  looks  that  were  ex- 
changed as  we  entered. 

"  '  Come,  boys, '  I  said,  '  and  join  me  in  a  little  drink. ' 

"Everybody  in  the  room — with  a  celerity  born  of  exper- 
ience— stepped  briskly  up  to  the  bar,  and  proceeded  to 
nominate  the  particular  form  in  which  his  portion  of  liquid 
death  should  be  dispensed.  I  noticed  that  the  distinguished 
Professor  Pranzini,  was  among  the  crowd.  It  was  evident 
that  Jerry  had  followed  my  suggestion. 

"After  everybody  had  been  supplied  with  liquor,  I 
turned  to  my  companions  and  said,  '  Gentlemen,  I  desire  to 
propose  a  toast,  complimentary  to  a  distinguished  citizen  of 
this  town,  whom  we  all  admire  and  respect.  There  is  no 
more  gallant  man  in  the  world  than  our  postmaster — the  dis- 
tinguished Major  Merriwether.  A  toast  to  any  lady  is  always 
a  compliment  to  a  gentleman  of  his  qualifications,  but  to  make 
the  compliment  more  personal  in  its  application,  I  desire  to 
propose  the  health  of  the  charming  Mile.  Bottini,  the  cele- 
brated artiste  who  has  for  several  day  s  honored  our  community 
with  her  presence,  and  who  has  so  highly  entertained  us  by 
her  extraordinary  histrionic  ability. 

"  'Gentlemen,  I  am  sure  you  will  all  drink  with  me,  the 
health  of  our  fair  guest.' 

"  Every  man  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips  and  drank  the 
toast,  with  the  exception  of  Professor  Pranzini,  who  deliber- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


561 


ately  and  conspicuously  raised  his  glass  and  spilt  its  contents 
into  a  large  box  of  sawdust  that  stood  before  the  bar,  where 
it  was  doing-  its  best — and  filthiest — to  enact  the  role  of  a 
cuspidor. 

"I  nudged  the  Major  and  called  his  attention  to  the  evi- 
dent insult. — 


THK   INSULT. 


"Turning  fiercely  upon  Pranzini,  I  said,  'What  is  the 
meaning  of  your  extraordinary  conduct,  sir?  Why  did  you 
not  drink?  Was  your  action  intended  as  a  personal  affront 
to  me,  sir?  or  as  a  criticism  upon  the  fair  lady  whose  name  I 
have  taken  the  liberty  of  mentioning,  in  a  gathering  which  I 
had  supposed  was  composed  entirely  of  courteous  gentlemen?' 

"  'Veil,'  replied  Pranzini, haughtily,  kl  do  not-a  know  dat 
I  am-a  compell-a  to  make-a  de  expla-na-tion  of-a  my  speak-a  to 


562  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

anybod-a,  sarr!  But  eef  you  not-a  understand,  I  tell-a  you 
dat  I  not-a  drink,  not-a  be-cause  I  make-a  to  insult-a  you, 
but-a  be-cause  I  not-a  like-a  de  lady — not-a  mooch.  I  think-a 
so  grand-a  complee-ment  ees  not-a  by  her  to  dee-serve.  / 
not-a  see  dat  she  ees  anyhow  so  verr-a  beau-tee-ful.  She 
ees  no  good  /think-a.  She  cannot-a  sing-,  she  cannot-a  dance; 
she  ees  not-a  worth  one  doll-arr  de  year.  Ah  !  but  she 
have-a  de  great  tempair!  She  pull-a  de  hair!  She  scratch-a 
de  face!  She  kick-a  and  she  bite-a!  She  got-a  one  big 
tempair  like-a  de  devil,  I  bet  you!' 

"While  this  little  dialogue  was  taking-  place  between 
Pranzini  and  myself,  Jerry  had  slipped  around  to  the  Major's 
side  and  was  industriously  whispering-  in  that  gallant  gentle- 
man's ear.  He  informed  the  old  warrior  that  it  was  very 
evident  that  this  was  not  the  doctor's  quarrel,  but  his  own, 
inasmuch  as  Pranzini  had  practically  acknowledged  that  he 
did  not  object  to  drinking  with  the  doctor,  but  was  opposed 
to  the  sentiment.  Jerry  also  suggested  to  the  Major,  that  he 
should  demand  an  immediate  apology,  and,  if  it  were  not 
forthcoming,  should  challenge  Pranzini  on  the  spot.  The 
Major  proceeded  to  follow  his  friend's  advice. 

"Addressing  Pranzini,  the  old  fire-eater  said — '  I'll  info'm 
yo',  suh,  that  this  is  ma  affaih!  The  lady  whose  health  yo' 
have  refused  to  drink,  is  a  puss'nal  fren'  of  mine,  suh,  an'  I 
deman'  an'  apol'gy,  suh!' — And  the  Major  slapped  himself 
upon  the  chest  with  an  air  of  ferocity  that  undoubtedly 
would  have  terrified  Pranzini,  had  he  not  been  acting  a  part 
with  the  moral  support  of  our  boys! 

"Parmit-a  me  to  deef-fair  with-a  you,  sarr!'  replied 
Pranzini,  assuming  an  aspect  as  ferocious  and  terrifying  as 
the  Major's.  'It-a  seem  to  me,  sarr,  that-a  dees  af-fair  not-a 
concern-a  you  at  all.  You  vill-a  please  make-a  to  mind  your 
own  beez-a-ness ! ' 

"'Do  I  unda'stan',  suh,'  thundered  the  Major,  '  that  yo' 
refuse  to  'pol'gize?' 

"  ' Pre-cis-a-ly  so! '  said  Pranzini.  ' I  con-graz-ulat-a  you, 
dat  you  hav-a  so  mooch  sense  dat  you  make-a  to  un-der- 
stand.  I  veel-a  not  apol-o-gize,  but  I  am-a  read-y  to  let-a  you 
like  eet  or  not-a  like  eet,  just  as-a  you  dam  please!' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  563 

"  'Very  well,  suh,  said  the  Major,  haughtily.  'I  deman' 
sat'sfaction  !' 

"All-a  right,  my  good-a  sarr,'  replied  the  prestidigitator. 
'I  am-a  ready  to  give-a  you  dam  plend-ee  sateez-faction,  any 
way  dat  you  like-a  to  have  eet ! ' 

"Ah!'  exclaimed  the  Major,  'it's  very  fo'tunate  fo'  yo', 
suh,  that  I  had  prepa'ed  fo'  a  social  call  this  evenin',  suh! 
Not  anticipatin'  any  such  occu'ence  as  this,  I  left  ma  pistols 
at  ma  headqua'tahs.  Howevah,  I  shall  expect  sat'sfaction  in 
a  mo'  fo'mal  mannah  on  the  field  of  honah,  suh!  Ma  fren'? 
th'  hon'ble  Mistah  Mapleson,  will  make  the  nec'sary  'range- 
ments.  Heah  is  ma  ca'd,  suh.' 

"Verr-a  veil,'  said  Pranzini,  'your-a  friend  can  find-a 
me  whenevair  dat-a  he  pre-fers.  Eet  vill  be  not-a  big  trouble 
to  speak-a  to  me,  sarr,  as  I  live-a  here  at  dees  hotel,  as-a 
you  know.'  With  these  defiant  words  the  prestidigitator 
retired. 

"'Now,  gentlemen,'  said  the  Major,  'I  trus'  that  yo' all 
will  join  me  in  a  little  liq'ah.  This  triflin'  affaih  mus'  not  dis- 
tu'b  yo'  social  enjoyment.' 

"As  the  quarrel  had  occupied  sufficient  time  to  develop  a 
most  inordinate  thirst  among  the  boys,  the  crowd  was  by  no 
means  slow  in  accepting  the  Major's  invitation,  meanwhile 
complimenting  him  upon  hischivalric  defense  of  the  principle 
of  honor  involved  in  the  controversy. 

"  Congratulations  and  invitations  to  imbibe  were  so  nu- 
merous, that  before  long  the  Major  had  quite  forgotten  the 
object  of  his  visit  to  the  hotel.  He  was,  however,  ostenta- 
tiously enthusiastic  over  the  prospect  of  vindicating  his  repu- 
tation for  courage  and  gallantry  upon  the  field  of  honor. 

"I  finally  concluded  it  was  high  time  to  get  the  Major 
home,  and  allow  the  boys  to  complete  their  plans  for  the 
prospective  duel.  I  therefore  intimated  to  the  old  hero  the 
advisability  of  retiring,  as  I  desired  to  have  a  little  conversa- 
tion with  him  upon  the  important  matter  in  which  he  and 
Pranzini  were  concerned. 

"'You  see,  Major,'  I  said,  'the  details  of  such  affairs 
should  be  arranged  promptly,  and  it  would  be  best  for  us  to 
return  to  your  quarters,  thus  giving  your  friend,  Mr.  Maple- 


564  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

son,  an  opportunity  to  arrange  the  preliminaries  of  the  little 
affairof  honor  in  which  your  chivalric  spirit  has  involved  you.' 

"'Yes,  Maje,'  said  Jerry,  '  et's  jest  ez  wall  fer  y'u  an' 
Doc,  ter  mosey  erlong.  I'll  fix  thing's  up  ship-shape,  an'  y'u 
kin  jes'  bet  yer  bottom  dollar  thar  aint  goin'  ter  be  no  fool- 
ishness 'bout  this  'ere  fight.  Uv  course,  seein'  ez  how  yore 
er  mil'tary  man,  thet  feller  Pranzini  aint  goin'  ter  seleck  no 
s'ords  ter  do  ther  fightin'  with,  but  yore  er  good  all  roun' 
fighter,  an'  shooters  is  good  'nuff  fer  us.  I'll  git  things  fixed 
up  ter-night,  fer  fear  thet  d — d  Eytalyun  mout  change  his 
mind.  Ez  soon  ez  I've  got  er  fixed,  I'll  come  down  ter  ther 
post-offis  an'  let  ye  know." 

"  'Ah,  ma  deah  Mistah  Mapleson,  yo'  are  quite  correct, 
suh.  We  will  retiah,  an'  I  can  assuah  yo'  that  any  arrange- 
ments which  yo'  may  make  will  be  puffec'ly  sat'sfactory  to 
me,  suh.  Gentlemen — I'll  bid  yo'  all  good  evenin',  suhs.' 

"With  this,  the  Major  linked  his  arm  in  mine  and  strode 
out  into  the  rain,  as  haughtily  as  the  combined  effects  of 
agitation  and  whisky  upon  his  knees,  would  permit.  It 
would  be  too  much  to  say  that  the  Major  had  passed  through 
the  trying  ordeal  of  his  quarrel  with  Pranzini  with  complete 
fortitude.  There  was  a  certain  tremulousnessin  his  accents, 
and  a  sufficient  degree  of  pallor  in  his  countenance,  to  warrant 
the  suspicion  that  he  was  supported  more  by  his  sublime 
egotism,  the  absence  of  any  immediate  danger,  and  the  pres- 
ence of  his  numerous  friends,  than  by  any  innate  quality  of 
courage  that  he  possessed.  During  our  journey  homeward, 
however,  he  was  bold  as  a  lion. 

"I  took  occasion  to  stimulate  the  old  warrior's  ambition 
for  glory,  by  reminding  him  that  the  honor  of  the  entire  camp 
was  in  his  hands.  'Why,  Major,'  I  said,  'you  have  no  con- 
ception of  the  importance  of  the  affair  in  which  you  are  about 
to  engage.  You  must  remember  that  Pranzini,  while  he  is 
temporarily  our  guest,  is  an  alien,  and  it  would  have  been 
very  humiliating  to  your  fellow  citizens,  had  the  insult  offered 
by  him  been  allowed  to  pass  unnoticed.  It  is  a  fortunate 
thing,  sir,  that  we  have  among  us  such  a  man  as  yourself, 
who  has  not  only  a  high  degree  of  appreciation  of  personal 
honor,  but  who  is  ready  at  any  and  all  times  to  uphold  the 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  565 

valor  and  courage  of  the  citizens  of  this  commonwealth! 
Your  conduct  this  evening-,  sir,  was  both  gallant  and  courage- 
ous, and  I  have  no  doubt  that  you  will  acquit  yourself  with 
credit  upon  the  field  of  honor!' 

"'I  am  obliged  to  yo'  fo'  the  compliment,  suh,'  replied 
the  Major.  '  Yo'  may  be  suah  that  the  reputation  of  this 
town  fo'  honah  an'  courage  shall  not  suffah  at  ma  hands.  It 
will  give  me  great  pleasuah,  suh,  to  uphold  the  dignity  of  ma 
fellow  citizens  by  killin'  that  impert'nent  scoun'rel!' 

"We  had  now  reached  the  post-office,  and  as  Jerry  was 
likely  to  arrive  soon  with  his  report  of  progress  in  the  affair 
of  honor,  I  accepted  the  Major's  invitation  to  enter  his  quar- 
ters and  await  developments. 

"Jerry  did  not  keep  us  waiting  long — his  promptness 
would  have  excited  suspicion  in  a  less  confiding  mind  than 
the  Major's.  He  made  his  report,  however,  with  all  the 
gravity  and  dignity  becoming  the  important  position  of 
second  to  so  gallant  a  warrior  as  Major  Merriwether. 

"'Wall,  gentlemen,'  said  Jerry,  'I've  got  ther  thing 
fixed  up  all  O.  K.  Ther  d — d  Eytalyun  wuz  er  little  slip- 
pery, an'  I  reckon  he'd  er  crawled  out  uv  et — he  wuz  so 
durned  skeered — ef  et  hedn't  bin  fer  Charley  Mason.  Ye 
see,  Pranzini  wuz  kickin'  jes'  like  er  steer,  'bout  hevin'  no 
soot'ble  second,  so  Charley  jes'  releeved  his  mind  on  thet 
pint,  by  volunteerin'  ter  do  ther  han'sum  by  'im.  Arter  thet, 
I  hed  Charley  ter  deal  with,  an'  thar  wuzn't  no  more  foolish- 
ness, y'u  bet!  Et  wuz  er  case  uv  fightin'  ther  Major  er 
fightin'  Charley,  so  I  reckon  Pranzini  thort  thar  wuzn't  much 
choice. 

" '  Et  didn't  take  Charley  an'  me  long  ter  fix  up  ther 
'rangements  fer  ther  fight.  Ye  see,  we  thort  es  how  thet 
Eytalyun  mout  git  outer  town  'fore  long,  so  we  jes'  sot  ther 
scrimmage  fer  termorrer  mornin',  'fore  breakfas'.  Pistols 
is  ther  weppins,  an'  I  hed  ther  thing  fixed  up  soze  ther 
Major's  own  duellin'  pistpls  kin  be  used,  seein'  ez  how  they 
air  th'  only  guns  er  thet  kind  in  town.  We  kin  toss  up  fer 
choice.' 

"'Ah!  Major,'  I  said,  'the  brave  deserve  good  fortune, 
and  you  have  certainly  got  luck  on  your  side!  It  will  be  a 


566  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

great  advantage  to  you,  sir,  to  use  a  weapon  with  which  you 
are  so  perfectly  familiar!  I  dare  say  that  Pranzini  never 
faced  an  enemy's  fire  in  his  life,  while  this  affair  will  be  but  a 
pleasant  morning-'s  diversion  for  you.  I  presume,  Jerry,  that 
the  duel  is  to  be  a  Voutrance?'1 

"'Wall,  I  haint  read  up  on  ther  trance  bizness  lately,' 
replied  Jerry,  '  but  ef  ye  mean  air  we  goin'  ter  put  thet  d — d 
Eytalyun  inter  er  trance,  ye've  hit  ther  nail  on  ther  head 
fust  crack.  I  knowed  whut  Maje  wanted  all  rig-ht,  so  I  jes' 
'ranged  ter  hev  ther  shootin'  goon  till  one  er  ther  combatters 
wuz  drapped — wich  means  till  ole  Pranzini  gits  er  hole  through 
'im  whut  er  coyote  kin  run  through!  Savey?' 

'"Well,  gentlemen,'  said  the  Major,  'the  'rangements 
suit  me  puffec'ly.  I  can  assuah  yo',  suhs,  that  the  insult 
offa'ed  me  in  yo'  presence,  can  only  be  wiped  out  with  goah  ! 
I  am  only  too  glad  to  get  ma  hand  in  again,  suhs — it  will  seem 
like  old  times.' 

"'Then,  if  everything  is  settled,  gentlemen,'  I  said,  'I 
may  as  well  retire.  I  must  clean  up  my  instruments  and 
prepare  some  surgical  dressings;  there's  no  telling  what  may 
happen — to  Pranzini,  and  he  is  certainly  entitled  to  my  pro- 
fessional consideration. 

'"  Yaas,'  said  Jerry,  dryly,  'be  on  hand  sharp  et  half- 
past  six  er  clock  et  th'  ole  corral — whar  we  hed  ther  bull- 
fight, ye  know,  Major!  I  picked  out  thet  place  seein' ez  how 
I  won  ther  toss,  coz  ther  Major  is  so  family  er  with  ther  groun' 
—eh,  Maje?' 

"  'An'  by  ther  way  Doc,  ef  y'u  hev  got  enny  books  whut 
treats  on  bullet  wounds  in  Eytalyun  fellers,  ye'd  better  study 
up  fer  yer  work  ter-morrer  mornin'!' 

"  'Very  well,  Jerry,'  I  replied,  Til  look  over  my  libi'ary 
and  see  what  I  have  on  the  subject.  Perhaps  Baron  Larrey, 
or  some  other  of  the  old-time  surgeons  have  written  on 
that  special  topic. 

"  'And  now  I  must  be  going.  Good  night,  Major,  and 
good  luck  to  you,  sir.  Good  night,  Jerry — we  will  next  meet 
on  the  field  of  honor — the  field  of  victory  for  the  Major,  I  am 
sure!' — 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  567 

"Morning1  came,  and  with  it  a  visitor — the  sun.  Old 
Sol  had  not  shown  his  face  for  some  days,  and  although  he 
was  still  sullen  and  gloomy  and  there  was  little  prospect  of 
his  remaining-  with  us  long — the  sky  being  still  very  for- 
bidding— he  was  a  most  welcome  guest. 

"One  who  has  never  been  land-locked  in  the  mountains 
during  stormy  weather,  cannot  appreciate  how  beautiful  the 
sun  looks  when — as  if  to  see  how  much  the  world  misses  him 
— he  coquets  with  us,  through  the  rifts  of  the  sombre  clouds. 
He  has  a  fashion  of  appearing  and  disappearing  that  is  most 
aggravating,  and  our  little  world  follows  his  varying  moods, 
with  all  the  celerity  of  a  lightning-change  artist.  When  the 
sun  smiles,  the  earth  is  fairly  radiant  with  happiness,  but 
when  he  scowls,  there  is  gloom,  depression  and  sadness 
everywhere.  There  was  a  special  need  of  the  sun  on  this 
occasion — he  has  a  grandly  stimulating  effect  on  one's  red 
corpuscles,  and  red  corpuscles  were  in  urgent  demand  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  postoffice. 

"'Ah!'  thought  I,  as  I  glanced  at  the  heavens,  'this 
augurs  well  for  the  gallant  Major.  If  the  sun  will  only  stay 
up  for  a  couple  of  hours,  he  may  get  warmed  up  to  a  most 
heroic  pitch.  It  would  indeed  be  a  pity,  not  to  have  the  sun's 
rays  to  add  lustre  to  the  old  soldier's  uniform  and  dazzle  his 
enemy! ' 

"  Having  gathered  my  instruments  and  other  necessaries 
together,  I  tucked  them  under  my  arm  and  started  for  the 
battle  ground.  On  the  road,  I  fell  in  with  half  a  dozen  of  the 
boys  who  were  in  the  secret,  and  on  their  way  to  the  gladia- 
torial arena. 

"As  audiences  are  not  en  wgle  in  affairs  of  honor,  I 
suggested  to  them  the  propriety  of  assuming  positions  out- 
side the  arena — opposite  the  road  by  which  the  Major  would 
of  necessity  arrive.  My  plan  was  immediately  adopted,  and 
on  our  arrival  at  the  corral  the  boys  posted  themselves  as  per 
arrangement. 

"  When  I  entered  the  arena,  I  observed  that  Pranzini  and 
his  second  were  already  on  the  ground.  I  was  glad  of  this, 
because  I  should  have  regretted  to  see  the  Major  make  the 


568  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

grand  entree  that  I  expected,  without  the  opportunity  of  duly 
impressing1  the  other  actors  in  the  drama. 

"  I  had  just  arranged  my  instruments  in  a  prominent  and 
alarmingly  conspicuous  position — flanking-  them  with  an  array 
of  bottles  and  bandages  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a  field 
hospital — when  the  Major  and  Jerry  appeared  at  the  entrance 
of  the  enclosure. 

"  The  Major  was  arrayed  in  the  same  costume  in  which 
I  had  first  made  his  acquaintance.  The  sun,  that  had  now 
beg-un  to  be  quite  friendly  and  benevolent,  illuminated  his 
salient  points  of  brilliancy;  his  medals,  gold  lace,  brass  but- 
tons and — his  nose,  until  he  was  a  spectacle  of  dazzling 
magnificence!  I  noted  with  some  interest,  that  his  com- 
plexion— aside  from  his  nose — was  decidedly  waxy. 

"Jerry,  I  observed,  had  locked  his  arm  in  the  Major's, 
and — was  it  my  imagination  ? — seemed  to  be  supporting  him ! 
Possibly  his  added  weight  of  importance  and  dignity  was  too 
much  for  his  legs — they  certainly  wabbled  more  than  was 
their  wont! 

"  I  also  noted  with  some  solicitude,  that  Jerry,  who  had 
pushed  the  Major  in  ahead  of  himself,  put  up  the  bars  again 
behind  them.  Was  it  because  he  was  afraid  Pranzini  might 
escape? 

"I  have  been  present  at  several  duels,  but  I  have  never 
seen  more  painful  formalities  than  were  observed  that  morn- 
ing. Really,  the  preliminaries  of  that  famous  fight  would 
have  made  a  valuable  supplement  to  the  standard  code. 

"Charley  Mason  won  the  toss,  and,  much  to  our  edifica- 
tion, the  Major  was  compelled  to  face  the  sun,  which  was  now 
glaring  quite  brightly!  You  can  imagine  the  brillant  figure 
he  presented  as  he  stood  there  trying  to  await  .the  serious 
part  of  the  programme,  with  all  the  calm  of  a  June  morning — 
an  effort  in  which  he  most  signally  failed. 

"It  remained  to  be  seen  whether  the  difficulty  that  the 
Major  experienced  in  maintaining  his  equilibrium,  was  due  to 
internal  dissensions  of  a  nervous  character,  or  to  a  frantic 
desire  to  annihilate  his  enemy.  Waiting  is  not  a  comfortable 
occupation  on  such  occasions,  and  there  are  those  upon  whom 
the  danger  of  the  situation  has  no  ennervating  influence  what- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  569 

ever,  yet  the  suspense  of  waiting- — the  postponement  of  the 
crisis — has  a  most  demoralizing-  and  sometimes  disastrous 
effect.  Pranzini  had  every  encouragement  to  keep  cool,  the 
Major — none. 

"  When  the  pistols  had  been  chosen,  and  the  seconds  pro- 
ceeded to  formally  load  them,  the  Major's  face  was  a  study. 
As  the  hug-e  bullets  were  conspicuously  dropped  into  the 
barrels  and  hammered  home,  I  thought  the  old  hero  would 
fall  over — but  he  didn't;  he  just  stood  there,  swaying-  like  a 
blackbird  on  a  branch  ! 

"As  Jerry  passed  me  on  his  way  to  hand  the  Major  his 
pistol,  I  whispered,  warningly — 'Don't  let  this  go  too  far, 
Jerry!  He  may  be  too  scared  to  know  enough  to  quit!' 

" '  Thet's  all  right,  Doc,'  replied  Jerry,  in  a  horse 
whisper,  '  wax  bullets !  Savvy  ? ' 

"The  Major  took  the  pistol  mechanically,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment stood  as  rigidly  erect  as  though  in  a  cataleptic  state — he 
was  actually  too  frightened  to  tremble.  But  he  soon  recovered 
his  power  of  movement  and — his  voice. 

"  'Air — y'u — ready,  gentlemen?'  cried  Jerry. 

"'No!  No!  Hold  on,  suhs!  Fo' Gawd's  sake  hold  on!' 
cried  the  Major,  as  he  frantically  fumbled  about  the  be- 
medalled  breast  of  his  gaudy  coat.— 

"This  performance  continued  for  fully  half  a  minute — 
he  was  apparently  searching  for  something. 

"  'Air — y'u — ready,  gentlemen?'  again  demanded  Jerry. 

"'No!  No!  hold  on,  suh!  Wait  a  minute!'  shrieked  the 
Major — and  he  threw  down  his  pistol  and  struck  out  at  a  two- 
fort}'  clip  for  the  gate! 

"The  gate  was  no  obstacle  to  the  old  soldier — he  was  in 
a  hurry,  and  retreating  was  his  specialty  ! — Over  the  bars  he 
went,  with  utter  disregard  for  form  and  the  integrity  of  his 
glittering  raiment!  Just  as  he  was  climbing  over  the  top 
rail,  Pranzini  fired  his  pistol  in  the  air,  with  the  result  that 
the  old  Major  fell  to  the  ground  and  rolled  a  goodly  portion 
of  the  way  down  the  road  toward  town! — We  waited  long 
enough  to  enable  the  poor  old  hero  to  get  fairly  away,  and 
then  joined  the  party  of  hilarious  boys  outside  the  fence  and 
started  back  to  town. 


570  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"'Wall,'  cried  Charley  Mason,  with  a  laugh  that  made 
the  mountains  ring1,  '  thet  show  beat  ther  bull-fight!  I  never 
seed  anythin'  like  it!  Whew!  how  old  Maje  did  hustle  over 
them  bars!  I  jes'  wish  I  could  er  seed  'im  vamoosin'  down 
ther  road — I'll  bet  he  made  er  record!  I  don't  b'lieve  he'll 
bother  his  head  much  erbout  thet  prize  booty  no  more;  it'll 
keep  th'  ole  feller  too  busy  er  fixin'  up  yarns  'bout  ther  duel.' 

"'Oh  well,'  I  remarked;  'the  old  Major  has  consider- 
able talent  as  a  romancist,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  will 
find  some  excuse  that  will  redound  to  his  credit.' 

"  '  I  dunno  know  'bout  thet,  Doc, "  said  Jerry,  who  had  not 
spoken  since  we  left  the  corral,  'I  feel  er  little  shaky  'bout  this 
'ere  deal,  an'  I  dunno  know  whether  et's  so  d — d  funny  ez  et 
looked  et  fust.  I'm  afear'd  we  hev  kinder  piled  on  ther  ag'ny 
an'  overdid  ther  bizness.  Th'  ole  Major  is  mighty  sens'tive, 
arter  all,  an'  this  thing  is  likely  ter  trubble  'im  er  heap.  Ye 
see,  this  field  uv  honer  gab  uv  his'n,  hez  allus  bin  his  strong 
pint,  an'  he'll  think  et  aint  goin'  ter  be  dead  easy  ter  squar' 
this  thing  with  ther  boys.' 

"  '  You  forget  the  bull-fight,'  I  remarked. 

"  'Yes,  I  know,'  he  replied,  'but  thar  wuz  plenty  uv  fel- 
lers lookin'  on,  thet  day,  thet  wouldn't  er  faced  thet  d — d  steer 
er  holy  minnit,  an'  yit  aint  afear'd  uv  er  gun.  It's  easy  er  'miff 
t'  explain  erway  er  thing  like  thet,  but  this  'ere  is  diff'rent 
an'  Maje  knows  it.  Ye  see,  we  hev  allus  taken  ther  thing 
kinder  sery'us  like,  an'  made  th'  ole  man  think  ez  how  we  all 
thort  he  wuz  er  hero.  When  I  went  inter  this  thing,  I  thort 
he  would  weaken  afore  he  come  ter  taw,  an'  give  us  er  chance 
ter  let  'im  down  easy.' 

"'That  is  precisely  the  impression  I  myself  had,'  I 
answered,  'and  I  cannot  understand  now,  how  you  succeeded 
in  carrying  the  thing  so  far.' 

"  'Wall,'  said  Dutch  Bill,  who  had  been  one  of  the  audience 
outside  the  fence,  'I  reckon  Jerry  jest  erbout  lugged  him  inter 
ther  corral,  an'  th'  ole  feller  wuz  kinder  hopin'  suthin'  would 
happen  'fore  ther  shootin'  beginned.  He  wuz  er  thinkin' 
'bout  thet  proxy  graveyard  er  his,  I  reckon,'  and  Bill  smiled 
grimly  as  he  whispered  in  my  ear — 'an'  ef  this  thing  hed  bin 
on  ther  squar',  thar'd  bin  er  chance  fer  er  good  crop  er 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


571 


mackerony  over  thar  in  thet  tender-foot  patch,  nex'  Spring-.' 

"  The  boys'  hilarity  could  have  but  one  result,  it  made 

them  thirsty,  and  as  usual,  when  thirst  appeared  in  that  end 

of  town,  one  William  Hewlett  was  applied  to  for  relief — at 


DUTCH  BILL'S    IDEAS    OF    AGRICULTURE. 

the  standard  price.  If  I  am  a  judge  of  morning-  beverages, 
some  of  the  sufferers  did  not  appreciate  their  late  breakfast 
that  morning- — if  indeed  they  were  able  to  eat  any,  which  was 
extremely  doubtful. 


572  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"On  leaving-  Hewlett's,  I  suggested  the  advisability  of 
separating-  and  taking-  different  routes  to  our  respective  head- 
quarters, lest  the  Major  should  see  so  larg-e  a  party  tog-ether 
and  draw  inferences  that  would  still  further  wound  his 
vanity  and  excite  his  suspicions.  This  plan  was  adopted  and 
we  mutually  agreed  to  avoid  passing-  the  post-office  on  our 
way. 

"I  was  quite  busy  for  the  remainder  of  the  day,  and  was 
compelled  to  make  several  calls  at  some  distance  from  town. 
As  the  rain  had  beg-un  pouring-  ag-ain  at  noon,  my  day's  work 
was  extremely  unpleasant.  I  had  the  miserable  roads  all  to 
myself,  for  nobody  but  the  doctor  was  expected  to  be  out  in 
such  abominable  weather.  I  did  not  return  until  long-  after 
dark. 

"  When  I  had  put  my  hardy  little  horse  away  for  the 
nig-ht,  I  mentally  resolved  to  turn  in  as  soon  as  I  had  eaten  a 
bit  of  supper — I  was  wet  to  the  skin,  and  as  tired  as  only 
muddy,  stormy,  mountain  riding-  on  a  mustang-  can  make  one. 
When  I  reached  my  shanty,  however,  I  found  Jerry  awaiting- 
me. 

"  'Hallo  there,  Jerry!'  I  called,  'you  seem  to  be  lying-  in 
wait  for  me.  Don't  shoot  until  you  hear  the  evidence ! 

"Jerry  was  usually  quite  appreciative  of  my  little  jokes, 
but  he  now  exhibited  no  more  merriment  than  a  hired 
mourner  at  a  funeral. 

"'Thar  aint  no  shootin'  in  me,  jes'  now,'  he  replied, 
g-loomily,  'leastwise  et  my  fren's.  I  hev  done  ernuff  er  thet 
sort  er  damagfe  already  terday.' 

"  'Why,  what  on  earth's  the  matter  with  you,  Jerry?'  I 
asked,  'what  has  happened?' 

"  'Doc, 'he  replied  solemnly,  '  ther  poreole  Major's  g-one!' 

"  '  Gone?  Gone  where  ? ' 

'"Thet's  jest  it,  Doc;  nobody  knows  whar.  He's  jes' 
g-one,  plain  g-one — vamoosed,  cut  stick,  an'  quit  ther  claim!' 

'"But  what  for?'  I  asked. 

"'Wall,  ye  'member  whut  I  said  this  mornin'  'bout  th' 
ole  man  bein'  sens'tive?' 

"'Yes,'  I  replied,  'I  do  remember  your  saying-  some- 
thing- of  the  kind.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  573 

"  'Then  I  reckon  ye'  understan'  ther  situashun.  Ther 
duel  wuz  too  much  fer  th'  ole  man's  pride.' 

"  'Oh,  I  wouldn't  worry  about  it.  Jerry,'  I  said,  'the  Major 
will  turn  up  again  all  right.  He  is  keeping-  himself  out  of  the 
way  for  a  while.  Perhaps  he  has  locked  himself  up  at  his 
quarters.' 

"  '  No,  Doc,  I  jes'  come  frum  ther  post-offis — he  aint  thar, 
an'  whut's  wuss,  he  haint  bin  thar  sence  jest  arter  ther  duel. 
Some  uv  ther  boys  busted  ther  door  in,  an'  foun'  ther  place 
empty.  Th'  ole  feller  hed  changed  his  cloze  an'  gone  erway, 
lockin'  ther  place  up  agin  arter  hisself.  Some  uvther  fellers 
said,  jes'  like  y'u  did,  es  how  they  thort  he'd  comeback  afore 
mornin',  but  I  don't  b'lieve  it.  He's  summers  out  thar  in  ther 
hills,  an'  ther  Lord  only  knows  whut'll  happen  ter  ther  pore 
ole  cuss!  I  wish  thet  d — d  ole  show  hed  bin  in  h — 1,  'fore  it 
ever  struck  this  town!  Everybody  likes  ole  Maje,  an'  I  wuz 
allus  his  bes'  friend.' 

"'You  were,  indeed,'  I  replied,  'and  I  know  just  how  you 
feel.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Jerry,  'I  am  a  little  ashamed  of 
my  own  part  in  the  transaction.' 

"'Wall,  Doc,  it's  diff'rent  with  y'u,'  said  Jerry,  sadly, 
'y'u  haint  knowedole  Maje  ez  long-  ez  I  hev,  an'  besides,  I  owe 
th'  ole  man  er  g-ood  turn  thet  I  never  g-ot  jes'  ther  rig-ht 
chance  ter  squarV 

"  '  How  was  that?'  I  asked. 

"  'E  t  aint  no  time  fer  long-  yarns,  Doc;  yore  all  tired  out, 
an'  I  aint  feelin'  jes'  like  tellin'  'em,  an'  'specially  thet  one, 
but  I'll  jes'  say  this  much,  erbout  er  little  deal  thet  I  never 
tole  y'u  erbout.  I  hed  ther  mountain  fever  wonst,  an'  ole 
Maje  nussed  me  throug-h  et.  All  ther  rest  uv  ther  boys  wuz 
too  bizzy  minin',  ter  think  erbout  a  ole  hez-bin,  like  I  seemed 
ter  be.  Uv  course,  Maje  hedn't  much  uv  anythin'  else  ter  do, 
but  thet  don't  lessen  whut  I  owe  him.  He  haint  g-ot  no  sand, 
an'  he's  g-ot  er  heart  like  er  woman,  but  thet  wuz  ther  kind 
uv  er  heart  I  wuz  needin'  'bout  then.  Th'  ole  Major  kaint 
fight  er  little  bit,  but  he  kin  nuss  er  sick  feller  ter  beat  ther 
very  devil!' 

"'Well,  Jerry,'  I  replied,  deeply  moved,  'now  you  are 
heaping-  a  few  live  coals  on  my  own  head.  I  don't  know  just 


574  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

how  to  rectify  our  mistake,  but  I  feel  that  the  first  thing-  to 
do  is  to  try  to  find  the  Major.  We  must  find  him  first  and 
make  amends  afterward.' 

"'Thet's  easier  said  ner  done,  Doc,'  Jerry  answered, 
sorrowfully.  '  We  couldn't  find  nuthin'  in  them  mountains 
er  night  like  this,  an'  ther  painters  er  grizzlies  is  likely  ter 
find  'im  fust,  ef  we  wait  till  termorrer,  so  I  reckon  we  air  up 
er  stump.' 

"At  any  rate,  Jerry,'  I  said,  'we  will  be  compelled  to 
wait  till  morning-.  It  is  probable  that  the  Major  started 
away  very  promptly,  after  his  g-allant  retreat  from  the  battle- 
field. If  so,  he  quite  likely  reached  some  other  town  before 
nig-htfall.  He  rode  away,  did  he  not?' 

"'By  th'  etarnal!'  exclaimed  Jerry,  'we  never  thort  er 
lookin'  ter  see  whether  his  mustang  wuz  gone.  We  wuz  so 
kinder  upsot,  thet  we  fergot  all  erbout  his  hevin'  er  hoss. 
But  thet  animile  is  er  slow  traveler,  an'  th'  ole  Major  moutn't 
ride  fast  ernuff,  on  sich  roads  ez  we've  got  now,  ter  reach  er 
safe  place.  We'll  start  arter  'im  in  ther  mornin',  hoss  er  no 
hoss,  an'  ef  we  find  'im,  we'll  bring  'im  home  like  one  er  them 
Eur'pean  jukes  thet  he  tole  us  erbout.  I  want  y'u  ter  go 
'long  with  us,  Doc;  th'  ole  Major  mout  hurt  hisself  an'  need 
some  doctorin'. ' 

"  'I  was  about  to  say,  Jerry,'  I  remarked,  '  that  I  consider 
it  my  duty  to  accompany  you,  both  because  of  the  possibility 
of  my  services  being  needed,  and  from  the  fact  that  I  regard 
myself  as  in  great  measure  responsible  for  the  poor  old 
man's  hasty  departure.' 

"'Et's  d — d  hard  tellin'  who  ter  blame',  replied  Jerry, 
'  when  one  feller's  ez  thick  in  ther  mud  ez  t'other  is  in  ther 
mire;  but  I'm  'bleeged  ter  y'u  fer  takin'  so  much  int'rust 
in  ole  Maje,  all  ther  same.  We'd  orter  git  a  early  start,  so 
I'll  call  fer  y'u  'bout  half  pas'  five  erclock.' 

"  Having  received  my  assurance  that  I  would  be  ready  at 
the  appointed  time,  the  kind-hearted  Jerry  rode  away." 


"And  now,  my  boy,  it  is  time  for  us  to  remember  that  we 
are  but  human,  and  need  a  certain  amount  of  rest  and  sleep. 
Let  us  see  what  time  it  is  anyway— 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


575 


"Good  gracious,  lad!  it's  half-past  one  o'clock!  Well, 
well,  this  will  never  do! — 

"Will  you  have  a  fresh  cigar  to  keep  you  company  on 
your  way  home?  No?  Well  then,  put  it  in  your  pocket  and 
smoke  it  to-morrow. 

"Good  nig-ht — or  rather,  good  morning-." 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER, 


v. 


ROUBLE  is  jes'  like  a  ole  snake 

in  er  log- 
Smoke  'er  out!"  says  "Nig-' 

ger  Joe/' 
"Dar's  many  good  tings  in 

de  hide  er  de  hog- 
Smoke  'em  out!"  says  "Nig*- 

ger  Joe." 
"  Hap'ness  is  like  er  fat  ' 

sum  up  er  tree — 
Smoke  'im  out!"  says  he, 


When  your  thoughts  do  not  come  however  you  try. 
And  your  fountain  of  wit  seems  barren  and  dry — 
"  Smoke  'em  out ! "  say  I. 


THE  PASSING  OF  MAJOR  MERRIWETHER, 


v. 


K)CTOR  Weymouth  was  in  a 
rather  petulant  mood  when  I 
arrived.  It  seems  that  his 
wife  had  requested  him  to 
hang  a  picture  for  her,  and  in 
trying-  to  demonstrate  that  he  really 
was  of  some  use  about  the  house — a 
point,  by  the  way,  upon  which  he  and 
\vife  had  something  of  a  difference  of 
opinion — he  had  made  a  decided  mess  of  it. 
It  appeared  he  had  fallen  off  the  step- 
ladder,  shaking  himself  up  considerably  and  knocking  the 
skin  off  his  somewhat  prominent  nose. 

This  being-  the  doctor's  sensitive  point,  as  well  as  his 
most  prominent  feature,  he  was  expressing  his  ideas  of  the 
accident  in  his  usual  clear-cut  and  incisive,  not  to  say  ornate, 
style.  I  could  see  him  from  the  hall,  as  his  colored  servant 
admitted  me,  and,  as  he  was  too  pre-occupied  to  notice  me,  I 
stood  watching  him  with  some  degree  of  curiosity — much  to 
the  amusement  of  his  wife,  who  had  seen  me  enter. 

After  a  choice  exemplification  of  the  fact  that  a  bit  of 
temper  and  g-ood  lungs  sometimes  make  fine  phrases,  the 
doctor  again  assailed  the  picture — this  time  successfully. 
He  came  slowly  down  from  the  step-ladder,  gazing1  upward  at 
the  picture, with  an  expression  as  triumphant  as  though  he 
had  just  tied  the  innominate  artery  and  hoped  to  pull  his 
patient  through. 


582  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

When  he  reached  the  floor,  he  happened  to  glance  toward 
the  hall  and  saw  me,  smilingly  awaiting1  him: 

"Hallo,  young  man!  How  long  have  you  been  standing- 
there  watching  my  performance?  You  heard  me  swear,  I'll 
warrant ! 

"Well,  it  can't  be  helped  if  you  did,  and  I'm  certain  you 
never  knew  of  greater  provocation.  Take  a  seat  in  the 
library  and  I'll  join  you  presently — as  soon  as  I  have  put 
some  collodion  on  mv  new  nasal  ornamentation." 


"Ah!  here  we  are  again,  punch,  hookah,  cigars  and  all— 
with  the  entire  evening  before  us.  Have  one  of  these  cigars; 
they  are  a  new  brand  I  am  trying — on  my  friends — and  I 
should  like  your  opinion  of  them. 

"Well,  my  boy,  tempus  has  'fugited'  rather  more  rapidly 
than  usual  since  I  saw  you  last.  I  have  been  so  busy  that  I 
have  hardly  had  time  to  note  the  passing  of  the  days.  There 
has  been  a  marked  increase  in  the  number  of  cases  of  diph- 
theria of  late.  Do  you  know,  young  man,  that  diphtheria  is 
of  all  diseases  the  one  I  dread  the  most?  It  is  a  disease  that 
has  taken  the  conceit  out  of  greater  men  than  I  am,  though 
that's  not  saying  much.  What  disease  has  a  worse  record? 
Its  course  has  been  marked  by  tears  enough  to  float  the 
Great  Eastern,  and  despair  enough  to  give  the  angels  melan- 
cholia! It  has  broken  hearts  enough  to  appease  the  wrath  of 
Providence  for  all  time,  yet,  Herod-like,  it  still  goes  on  and 
on,  destroying  the  innocent  and  laughing  at  science!  Hygeia 
has  many  injuries  to  avenge,  but  diphtheria  has  caused  woe 
enough  to  satiate  the  vengeance  of  Frankenstein's  monster, 
to  say  nothing  of  that  of  an  outraged  divinity. 

"I  assure  you,  my  young  friend,  that  I  always  feel 
humiliated  in  the  presence  of  diphtheria.  To  think  how 
comparatively  little  we  can  do  to  combat  such  a  monster  of 
destruction,  is  not  only  humiliating  but  absolutely  exasper- 
ating. 

"  Well,  you  may  be  right — perhaps  I  am  drawing  it  a 
little  too  strongly;  I'll  admit  that  we  save  many  lives,  but  our 
past  records  show  that  we  have  saved  them  by  the  application 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  583 

of  rational  general  principles,  rather  than  by  virtue  of  specific 
remedies. 

"Oh  yes,  I  know  there  have  been  hundreds  of  'specifics' 
for  diphtheria,  all  of  which  have  been  lauded  to  the  skies — 
while  the  poor  patients  have  been  fairly  flying-  thither.  But 
none  of  the  so-called  specifics  have  held  their  ground.  We 
have  sought  for  a  specific  most  faithfully;  indeed,  there  is 
hardly  a  general  practitioner  who  has  not  discovered  an 
infallible  remedy  at  one  time  or  another — only  to  drop  it  for 
a  new  straw  '  specific,'  sooner  or  later. 

"  One  of  the  finest  men  I  ever  knew,  was  driven,  first  out 
of  the  profession,  and  then  into  an  early  grave,  by  his  own 
discoverv.  He  invented  a  specific  for  diphtheria,  which, 
according  to  a  monograph  that  he  published,  was  practically 
infallible — as  proven  by  the  records  of  some  hundreds  of 
cases.  Within  a  week  after  the  appearance  of  his  essay,  the 
disease  appeared  in  his  own  family,  and  in  a  few  days  had 
robbed  him  of  his  wife  and  two  children.  He  had  no  specific 
for  a  broken  heart,  poor  fellow,  and  in  less  than  six  months, 
he  and  his  theory  were  buried  beside  his  loved  and  lost  ones. 
And  then  he  found  the  only  true  specific  for  all  human  ills — 
the  grave. 

'  Oh,  frail  estate  of  human  thing's 
Then  to  his  cost  your  emptiness  he  knew. ' 

"  But,  thanks  to  modern  science,  we  at  last  bid  fair  to  be 
able  to  meet  the  disease  upon  at  least  even  terms.  Indeed, 
the  discovery  of  antitoxin  has  given  us  ground  for  hope  that 
we  may  one  day,  not  only  battle  with  diphtheria  successfully, 
but,  mayhap,  practice  inoculation  against  it,  as  we  do  in  the 
prevention  of  smallpox. 

"What  a  disagreeable  day  this  has  been,  to  be  sure!  I 
have  had  an  excellent  opportunity  to  appreciate  it,  for  I 
haven't  had  so  much  to  do  for  many  weeks.  Such  a  variety 
of  things, too.  I  really  believe  I  have  had  all  the  ills  that  weak 
human  flesh  is  heir  to,  paraded  for  my  inspection  to-day. 
The  slippery  roads  and  sidewalks  have  given  the  surgeons 
plenty  to  do,  for  a  week  or  more,  and  I  certainly  have  had  my 
full  share. 

"What  sort  of    cases    have    I    had?     Well,   my    young 


584  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

Esculapius,  what  kind  would  you  expect  to  have  in  such 
weather?  You  don't  know,  eh?  Well,  sir,  you'll  learn  some 
very  practical  points  in  that  direction  before  you  have  been 
in  practice  one  winter,  if  you  practice  in  the  North— which 
you  \vill  not  do  if  you  are  sensible. 

"In  such  weather  as  has  recently  prevailed  in  this  local- 
ity, your  good  citizen  may  slip  upon  the  icy  sidewalk,  perhaps 
a  hundred  times,  with  impunity — this  is  likely  to  be  the  case 
if  he  carries  a  large  accident  policy.  He  finally,  however — 
this  is  especially  apt  to  occur  if  his  policy  has  run  out — slips 
just  once  too  often,  and  does  himself  more  or  less  serious 
injury. 

"  If  he  happens  to  be  a  fastidious  individual,  he  may  make 
a  selection  from  a  larg-e  variety  of  injuries.  He  may  select  a 
sprained  wrist  or  ankle,  a  Colic's  or  Pott's  fracture,  a  dis- 
location, a  broken  head,  or  a  black  eye,  according-  to  taste. 
A  sprained  back,  concussion  of  the  brain  or  spine,  and  moral 
prostration,  may  be  used  for  trimming's — especially  if  a  case 
is  to  be  made  against  a  corporation  or  the  municipality. 

"There  are  numbers  of  medical  cases,  too,  just  now — 
diphtheria  is  not  having  the  field  to  itself,  by  any  means — 
measles  is  playing  a  pretty  hard  game  with  the  babies. 

"A  mild  disease,  you  say?  Oh,  yes,  sometimes,  but 
there's  measles  and  measles.  I  don't  know  of  a  trickier  or 
deadlier  disease  when  it  does  take  a  notion  to  be  malignant. 

What  miserable  complications  and  sequelae  follow  in  the 
train  of  the  eruptive  diseases  of  children,  and  especially 
measles!  It  seems  to  me  that  all  those  wonderful  germs 
that  we  have  discovered  of  late  years,  fairly  lie  in  wait  for 
measles  patients.  Your  little  patient  is  getting  along  swim- 
mingly, and  you  are  in  the  act  of  congratulating  the  child's 
parents — and  incidently  yourself — when,  the  first  thing  you 
know,  a  vicious  pneumococcus,  or  pus  microbe,  or  a  tubercle 
bacillus,  that  has  been  sneaking  around  looking  for  victims, 
attacks  the  poor  little  pet  and  hangs  on  until  death  steps  in 
and  claims  his  own. 

"Measles  a  mild  disease,  eh?  Just  wait  until  you  meet 
it  with  its  war  paint  on ! 

"Ask  my  friends  Dr.  M—   -  and  Dr.  W—    -  how  they 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  585 

lost  their  own  little  children.  And,  for  the  matter  of  that, 
ask  your  humble  servant  how  it  happened  that  there  were  but 
three  of  his  own  family  who  survived  to  adult  age.  Poor 
little  baby  brother  and  sister — you  could  testify  that  measles 
is  a  serious  matter! 

"By  the  way,  my  young-  friend,  I  saw  a  case  to-day  that 
almost  made  me  forget  my  professional  etiquette  and  say 
some  pretty  plain  things  to  one  of  my  brethren. 

"I  was  called  in  counsel  to  see  one  of  my  old  patients 
who  had  been  ill  for  three  weeks  with  what  had  been  pro- 
nounced typhoid  fever.  The  doctor  patronizingly  told  me, 
that  he  had  the  case  -well  in  hand,  but  a  complicating  abscess 
had  developed  in  the  patient's  right  side,  and  the  family  was 
growing'  somewhat  uneasy. 

"  Examination  revealed  a  huge  abscess,  evidently  due  to 
appendicitis.  I  asked  the  doctor  what  he  was  doing  for  this 
feature  of  the  case,  and  he  told  me  that  he  was  poulticing 
the  abscess  and  '  waiting  for  the  pus  to  come  to  the  surface!' 

"Having  ascertained  that  the  doctor  had  no  particular 
influence  with  the  Providence  which  had  been  so  kind  to  the 
patient  for  the  preceeding  three  weeks,  and  learning  that 
there  was  no  magical  potency  in  his  poultices  that  was  likely 
to  determine  the  particular  direction  in  which  the  abscess 
would  rupture,  I  suggested  the  use  of  the  knife,  and,  for  a 
wonder,  my  distinguished  confrere  consented  to  it — although 
with  bad  grace. 

"I  hope  I  succeeded  in  convincing-  my  learned  friend, 
that,  when  one  has  a  lot  of  gunpowder  and  some  loose  matches 
in  the  same  pocket,  it  is  unwise  to  wait  for  a  special  dispens- 
ation of  Providence  to  remove  the  danger — it  is  safest  to 
empty  the  pocket,  as  gently  as  possible,  but  thoroughly. 
Providence  is  often  kind,  but  rarely  capable  of  successfully 
carrying  on  a  copartnership  with  imbecility. 

"But  not  every  practitioner  would  have  surrendered  as 
gracefully  as  did  this  one.  As  Dumas  remarked,  '  While 
there  is  a  limit  to  genius,  stupidity  has  no  bounds.  Some 
people's  opinions  are  like  nails,  the  harder  you  hit  them  the 
deeper  you  drive  them  in.' 

"  With  such  people  it  is  profitless  to  argue. 


586  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"  It  is  but  a  few  days  since  I  operated  upon  a  strangulated 
hernia,  the  patient  being- almost  in  extremis.  He  had  been  for 
some  days  on  a  diet  of  lead-and-opium  pills.  The  doctor  said 
he  had  reduced  the  hernia,  but  that  ''the  subsequent  vomiting 
had  set  tip  inflammation"1 — hence  the  pills. 

"  The  patient  did  not  recover — the  bowel  was  gangrenous 
—but  the  doctor  said  that  4  if  the  operation  had  not  been  per- 
formed the  man  u'ould  have  recovered,  the  strangulation  -..-us 
already  loosening  up  ! ' 

"Apropos  of  Providence,  did  you  ever  notice  how  some 
of  our  theories  are  set  at  naught  among-  the  poorer  classes? 
I  was  riding  along  one  day  through  a  poor  neighborhood  on 
my  way  to  visit  one  of  my  once  prosperous  families  that  is 
now  down  in  the  world,  and  took  occasion  to  note  the  unhy- 
gienic condition  of  the  locality.  Dirty,  tumble-down  houses, 
hardly  big  enough  for  hen-coops,  interspersed  with  stables 
and  cheap  groceries,  breweries  and  bad-smelling  factories — 
the  locality  looked  anything  but  inviting. 

"The  streets  were  narrow  and  unpaved,  and  in  the 
ditches  lay  a  green-scummed  fluid  that  belonged  in  the 
sewers — of  which  there  were  none. — And  then  I  saw  playing 
about  the  sidewalks  and  slopping  about  in  the  mud  and  dirty 
water,  troops  of  children,  of  all  ages  and  varying  degrees  of 
filthy  dilapidation.  Frowsy,  unkempt,  dirty  and  ragged,  but 
as  healthy  and  fat  as  little  pigs — some  of  them  actually 
beautiful  through  all  their  dirt — they  were  a  direct  rebuke  to 
some  of  our  modern  views  of  sanitation! 

"The  mothers  of  these  children  are  also  a  rebuke  to 
some  of  our  notions  of  midwifery — as  formed  from  a  study  of 
fashionable  mammas. 

" '  Mrs.  O'Flaherty,  or  Mrs.  Guppenheimer,  increases 
the  census  on  a  Saturday  night,  and  on  Monday  morning  she 
is  at  the  wash-tub,  while  the  new  citizen  shifts  for  himself 
largely,  from  the  very  commencement  of  his  career.  He 
soon  joins  the  brigade  of  ragged,  healthy  little  soldiers 
out  in  the  ditch,  and  from  that  time  on,  shifts  for  himself 
altogether. 

"But  bye  and   bye  an  epidemic   comes,  and  then  the 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  587 

star-eyed  goddess — Science — is  vindicated,  and  the  brigade 
of  unfortunate  little  soldiers  is  decimated  by  microbes! 
"But,  to  return  to  the  Major:" 


"Jerry  was  on  hand  with  a  large  party  of  the  boys, 
bright  and  early  the  morning  following  the  day  of  the 
Major's  disappearance.  All  were  mounted,  and  seemingly 
very  eager  to  start  out  in  search  of  our  friend. 

"  To  me,  the  cavalcade  was  of  the  most  touching  signifi- 
cance— could  the  Major  have  seen  that  demonstration  of 
the  affection  of  his  fellow-townsmen,  the  poor  old  man  would 
have  found  therein  a  balm  for  his  lacerated  pride.  Jerry 
informed  me  that  even  the  little  Watson  boy  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  join  the  party,  thereby  running  extreme  risk  of  an 
application  of  the  maternal  slipper,  which  was  never  more 
deftly  wielded  than  by  his  muscular  mother.  But  the  old 
lady  herself,  was  nevertheless  as  interested  in  the  expedition 
as  any  of  the  men  —  she,  too,  had  a  warm  place  for  the  old 
Major  in  her  rather  practical  heart. 

"I  soon  had  my  horse  saddled,  and  joined  the  party  on 
the  penitential  expedition,  which,  alas!  proved  to  be  'love's 
labor  lost. ' 

"We  soon  divided  up  into  small  parties  and  scoured  the 
country  as  thoroughly  as  practicable,  under  the  then  exist- 
ing conditions  of  weather  and  roads,  but  to  no  purpose.  We 
could  not  find  a  trace  of  the  Major. 

"  The  party  with  which  I  rode,  was  led  by  Jerry,  and  we 
went  as  far  as  Placerville,  where  we  put  up  for  the  night. 
We  continued  our  search  for  some  miles  beyond  that  town 
the  following  day,  but  with  no  result — we  not  only  did  not 
find  our  postmaster,  but  could  obtain  no  news  of  him. 

"We  finally  gave  up  the  search,  and  disconsolately  re- 
turned to  E . 

"Jerry  was  right;  Major  Merriwether  had  indeed 

'vamoosed  an'  quit  ther  claim.'  The  town  of  E ,  knew 

him  no  more  in  the  flesh." 


"  The  weather  finally  cleared  up,  and  the  sky  was  again 
friendly  and   smiling.     Our   histrionic   guests  were  at  last 


588  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

enabled  to  get  away  from  town  in  comparative  comfort — and 
we  were  glad  to  see  them  go. 

"I  know  not  whether  the  chief  factor  in  the  disaster 
that  had  overtaken  our  town,  thought  of  the  gallant  old  man 
who  had  fallen  a  victim  to  her  capacious  smiles — and  his  own 
gallantry.  I  do  not  believe  she  had  the  poor  Major  in  mind, 
as  she  searchingly  glanced  at  the  crowd  that  stood  at  the 
hotel  entrance  watching  the  departure  of  the  stage,  but  -we 
thought  of  him,  and,  as  she  kissed  her  knobby  hand  in  our 
direction,  Jerry  Mapleson  instinctively  ducked  his  head  and 
swore  softly  to  himself. 

"Bottini  was  not  popular  in  E ,  and  her  departure 

was  hailed  with  joy — indeed,  as  the  boys  '  lickered  up  '  at  the 
hotel  bar  after  the  stage  had  gone,  some  of  them  actually 
smiled — for  the  first  time  since  we  lost  the  Major. 

"I  fancied,  as  I  saw  some  of  my  friends  glancing  at 
Pranzini,  that  they  regretted  exceedingly  the  unhappy  fact 
that  his  quarrel  with  the  Major  had  not  been  '  on  ther  squarV 
Dutch  Bill,  I  am  sure,  was  thinking  of  that  little  corner  in  the 
old  warrior's  proxy  cemetery,  that  he  had  selected  for  a  mac- 
caroni  garden.  Bill  knew  very  little  of  agriculture,  and  still 
less  of  the  manufacture  of  maccaroni — he  did  know  how  to 
prepare  Italian  prestidigitators  for  planting. 

"But  the  departure  of  the  stage  was  without  incident, 
and  the  pistols  of  the  Major's  loyal  friends  saw  not  the  light. 
Could  they  have  destroyed  the  perpetrators  of  the  practical 
joke  that  had  driven  their  old  friend  away,  without  taking 
some  of  their  own  medicine,  they  would  not  have  been  so 
peaceable.  They  were  just,  and  didn't  want  to  commit  sui- 
cide— nor  shoot  the  only  doctor  in  town." 


"The  little  town  of  E —  -  was  too  cosmopolitan  and  far 
too  busy,  to  permit  the  fortunes  of  a  single  individual  to  dis- 
turb its  equilibrium  for  any  length  of  time,  and  the  incident 
that  resulted  in  the  hasty  departure  of  our  postmaster  was 
no  exception  to  the  rule. 

"  The  old  Major  was,  however,  not  forgotten — especially 
was  he  remembered  by  some  of  his  intimate  friends.  Jerry 
and  I  had  many  a  remorseful  conversation  on  the  subject  of 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  589 

his  sudden  leave-taking-.  Our  consciences  had  been  eased  to 
a  certain  extent  by  a  rumor  that  a  man  of  his  description  had 
been  seen  somewhere  in  the  vicinity  of  Sacramento.  As  the 
Major  was  such  a  unique  character,  we  had  grounds  for 
hoping-  that  the  rumor  was  correct.  I  confess,  however,  that 
our  uneasy  consciences  saw  an  accuracy  in  the  description 
that  was  more  consoling-  than  log-ical. 

"Some  weeks  after  the  Major's  departure,  an  attempt 
was  made  to  arrange  for  a  successor  to  the  office  that  he 
had  vacated.  Jerry,  however,  opposed  this  in  a  manner 
more  than  usually  decisive  and  emphatic,  and  as  the  more 
determined  of  his  associates  were  with  him  on  the  question 
of  sentiment  involved,  the  ag-itation  was  very  short-lived. 

"Jerry  remarked:  '  Thar's  no  hurry  so  long-  ez  ther 
g-uv'ment  don't  g-it  excited.  Ther  post-offis  bizness  in  this 
'ere  town  aint  g-oin'  ter  slump  throug-h,  an'  I  reckon  we  kin 
stand  et  ez  long-  ez  ole  Uncle  Sam  kin.  Anyhow,  thar  aint 
goin'  ter  be  no  foolin'  with  ther  post-offis  jest  yit,  eh,  boys?' 

"And  the  boys  allowed  that  Jerry  was  rig-ht.  As  one  of 
his  friends  expressed  it,  '-Ef  enny  feller  is  more  perswadin' 
ner  Jerry  Mapes,  he  mus'  be  d — d  quick  on  ther  trig-g-er!' 

"  The  post-office  was  now  a  sentiment — dedicated  by  our 
boys  to  the  memory  of  Major  Merriwether.  Woe  betide 
him  who  wounded  their  feeling's  by  invading-  that  sacred 
domain! 

"  Meanwhile,  Tom  Oaks,  the  stag-e  driver,  was  the  dis- 
tributor of  the  mails,  as  in  the  primitive  days  long-  before 
the  town  had  a  postmaster. 

"Nobody  criticised  the  crude'and  informal  methods  of 
our  postmaster  pro  tern.  He  was  another  self-opinionated 
man,  with  a  larg-e  bump  of  self-esteem — and  a  big-g-er  six- 
shooter." 


"  The  Major  had  been  missing-  for  over  two  months,  and 
aside  from  the  rather  indefinite  tiding-s  to  which  I  have  already 
referred,  wre  had  heard  nothing-  of  him. 

"Winter  had  fairly  set  in,  and  as  our  little  town  was 
pretty  well  up  among-  the  mountains,  we  had  more  or  less 
snow,  alternating-  with  the  rainfall  characteristic  of  the 


590  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

greater  part  of  California  at  that  season  of  the  year.  We 
did  not  appreciate  the  luxury  of  snow,  as  it  seriously  inter- 
fered with  mining-,  and  for  periods  more  or  less  prolonged, 
effectually  cut  us  off  from  all  communication  with  the  valley 
towns. 

"  The  advantages  possessed  by  the  people  living  at  lesser 
altitudes  were  not  all  one-sided,  however,  as  the  freshets  that 
our  upper  country  furnished  them  in  the  spring-,  were  ample 
revenge  for  the  slurs  which  they  cast  upon  our  facilities  for 
earning  a  living-  and  for  travel,  during-  the  winter. 

The  stage  from  Placerville  was  decidedly  intermittent 

in  its  visits  to  E .    It  had  always  come  to  our  town  through 

the  courtesy  of  the  owners,  rather  than  on  account  of  their 
business  instinct.  During-  such  weather  as  usually  prevailed 
in  the  winter  months,  the  stag-e  came  beyond  Placerville  just 
about  as  often  as  old  Tom  Oaks  saw  fit — no  oftener. 

"As  might  be  inferred,  therefore,  the  semi-occasional 
visits  of  the  stag-e  were  gala  events  in  E . 

"I  participated  in  the  general  hilarity  of  these  celebra- 
tions more  as  an  evidence  of  public  spirit  than  because  the 
arrival  of  the  stage  was  likely  to  be  of  interest  to  me. 

"I  was  a  plodding  doctor,  caring  for  the  sick  in  a  rough 
mining  town.  I  had  burned  my  bridges  behind  me — there 
was  nothing  at  that  time  to  link  me  to  civilization.  My  old 
friends  in  the  lower  country  had  long  since  forgotten  me — 
the  search  for  gold  was  a  stronger  passion  than  friendship, 
and  memory  was  a  luxury  which  few  in  that  country  cared  to 
enjoy. 

"You  will  consequently  understand  that  the  arrival  of 
the  stage  was  not  even  an  incident  in  my  humdrum  career. 

"  What  was  my  surprise,  therefore,  as  I  stood  at  the  door 
of  the  hotel  one  evening,  carelessly  watching  the  boys  crowd- 
ing about  the  stage  and  clamoring  for  letters,' to  hear  my  camp 
sobriquet  called  out  by  the  driver: 

"'I  say,  Doc!  hyar's  er  letter  fer  y'u.  I  reckon  she's 
found  out  whar  y'u  air!'  said  Oaks,  jocularly. 

"  'Oh,  I  guess  you  must  be  mistaken,  Bill,'  I  said.  'I  am 
not  expecting  any  mail — indeed,  none  of  my  friends  know 
where  I  am,  so  far  as  I  know.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


591 


"'Wall,  this  'ere  letter  b 'longs  ter  y'u,  jest  ther  same,' 
he  replied,  'leastwise,  ef  ther  frunt  letter  uv  yore  name  is 
Will'vum  Wemmuth.' 

"  The  boys  eyed  me  somewhat  curiously,  as  I  stepped  up 
and  took  the  letter.  I  presume  they  were  as  much  surprised 
as  I  was,  that  I  should  receive  a  communication  from  the  out- 


"  RECKON    SHE'S    FOUND   OUT    WHAR    Y'U   AIR." 

side  world.  The  boys  were  not  inquisitive  regarding  my 
history,  and  I  never  knew  whether  or  not  they  even  sus- 
pected me  of  having-  one  worthy  of  attention.  Their 
instinctive  sense  of  personal  honor  and  the  delicacy  that 
prevails  among-  men  who  carry  quick  answers  ready  for  use 


592  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

in  their  holsters,  would  have  been  a  protection  from  idle 
curiosity,  even  had  I  any  history  that  required  it — this  I 
fortunately  had  not. 

"  No  comments  were  made  upon  my  letter,  therefore, 
and  I  interpreted  the  curious  glances  that  I  received,  as  a 
manifestation  of  the  friendly  and  sympathetic  interest  which 
I  felt  that  our  boys  had  in  me. 

"The  superscription  had  a  familiar  appearance,  yet  I 
had  not  the  slightest  suspicion  as  to  its  authorship.  I  am 
free  to  say  that  I  handled  the  missive  as  gingerly  as  though 
it  were  explosive — the  sensation  of  handling  a  letter  was  so 
novel  to  me. 

"I  went  into  the  bar-room  of  the  hotel,  sat  down  at  a 
table  in  an  out-of-the-way  corner,  and  awkwardly  proceeded 
to  open  my  letter. 

"It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  my  sensations  as  I  read 
the  epistle,  and  realized — long  before  I  reached  the  signa- 
ture— that  it  was  from  the  missing  Major.  Joy,  remorse 
and  amusement  were  commingled  to  such  a  degree  that  I 
could  hardly  have  expressed  my  feelings. 

"Possibly  you  may  better  appreciate  the  letter  by  read- 
ing it  in  the  original.  I  have  carefully  preserved  all  data 
bearing  upon  the  gallant  Major  Merriwether,  as  mementoes 
of  the  most  unique  character  I  have  ever  known.  The 
writing  is  still  legible,  although  you  will  have  to  handle  the 
letter  carefully,  as  the  paper  is  getting  into  the  sere  and 
yellow  leaf: 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  CAL. ,  December  30,  1863. 
DEAR  DOCTOR  WEYMOUTH: 

It  may  surprise  you,  sir,  to  receive  a  letter  from  me,dated  as  above. 
Indeed,  it  may  surprise  you  to  hear  from  me  at  all,  the  more  especially 
as  I  believe  that  you  fully  appreciate  the  peculiar  circumstances  sur- 
rounding- my  departure  from  E .  I  address  you,  sir,  as  the  onl}- 

gentleman  whom  I  know  in  my  former  place  of  residence,  who  is  worthy 
of  my  consideration. 

As  you,  sir,  were  upon  the  field  of  honor  upon  that  eventful  morn- 
ing' on  which  such  disgrace  was  broug-ht  upon  the  town,  you  certainly 
realize  the  scandalous  manner  in  which  my  opponent,  and,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  my  own  second,  the  Hon.  Mr.  Mapleson,  conducted  themselves. 

You  will  recollect,  sir,  that  at  the  most  critical  moment  of  the  affair 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  593 

— in  short,  at  the  very  instant  that  I  was  preparing-  to  receive  the  word 
to  fire,  I  was  compelled  to  precipitately  retire  from  the  field.  Had  my 
opponent  been  a  man  of  honor,  sir,  he  would  have  understood  the 
situation  as  soon  as  he  saw  by  my  actions  that  there  was  something 
seriously  wrong-  with  my  attire. 

Just  as  I  had  placed  myself  in  position,  I  discovered  to  my  horror 
and  dismay,  that  the  beautiful  decoration  presented  to  me  by  the  Czar 
of  Russia,  in  commemoration  of  the  interesting-  occasion  upon  which  I 
rescued  him  from  the  ferocity  of  a  bear,  was  missing  from  the  front  of 
my  coat. 

Realizing-,  sir,  that  I  must  have  left  the  decoration  at  my  head- 
quarters, where  it  would  doubtless  be  perfectly  safe  until  the  conclusion 
of  the  affair  in  which  I  was  then  eng-ag-ed,  I  was  about  to  prepare  to' 
continue,  and  exchang-e  shots  with  my  opponent,  when  I  remembered, 
sir,  that  I  had  promised  my  friend,  the  Czar,  that  I  would  never  enter 
any  affair  involving  my  personal  honor,  without  wearing  upon  my 
breast  that  beautiful  emblem  of  his  esteem. 

Relying-,  sir,  upon  the  instinctive  sense  of  honor  and  courtesy  of 
gentlemen  of  courage,  such  as  I  supposed  my  opponent  to  be,  I  did  not 
consider  it  necessary  to  explain  the  matter  before  retiring  from  the  field 
for  the  purpose  of  procuring  the  missing  decoration. 

I  had  the  impression  as  I  left  the  field  of  honor,  that  my  opponent 
took  a  cowardly  advantage  of  the  situation  and  fired  his  pistol  at  me, 
sir.  In  this  I  may  have  been  mistaken,  but  I  certainly  heard  a  report, 
and  on  subsequent  inspection  of  my  uniform  I  found  a  bullet-hole 
through  my  chapeau. 

I  could  even  have  overlooked  this  playful  indiscretion  on  his  part, 
sir,  had  he  remained  upon  the  field  like  a  gentleman  and  given  me  the 
opportunity  of  returning  the  fire. 

You  can  imagine  my  disgust,  when  I  returned  to  the  field  of 
honor  and  found  that  everybody  had  left.  Even  my  friend,  the  Hon. 
Mr.  Mapleson,  whom  I  believed  to  be  the  soul  of  chivalry,  had  departed. 
As  you,  sir,  were  a  non-combatant.  I  was  not  surprised  to  find  that  you 
had  retired. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  seek  out  my  adversary  and  shoot  him, 
sir,  like  a  dog.  On  further  reflection,  however,  I  decided  that  I  could 
not  in  self-respect  remain  longer  in  a  community  in  which  personal 

honor   and  courage    are  so   lightly  regarded   as  in  E .   I   therefore 

returned  to  my  humble  abode,  changed  my  clothing,  and  shook  the  dust 
of  that  miserable  town  from  off  my  feet  forever. 

I  would  ask  you,  sir,  as  the  only  gentleman  in  my  former  town, 
in  whose  discretion,  honor  and  courage  I  have  the  slightest  confidence, 
to  forward  to  me  such  property  as  you  may  find  in  my  headquarters 
and  can  identify  as  mine.  I  would  especially  commend  to  your  careful 
attention  my  military  wardrobe  and  accouterments.  I  will  state  that  on 
leaving  E •,  I  brought  my  various  decorations  and  orders  with  me. 


594  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

Hoping-  that  I  may  have  the  opportunity  of  greeting-  you  in  the 
near  future  in  my  new  and  more  congenial  surrounding's,  I  have  the 
honor  to  remain,  sir, 

Your  humble  servant  and  devoted  friend, 

MAJOR  MERRIWETHER. 

P.  S. — Permit  me  to  state,  my  dear  doctor,  that  I  have  at  last 
found  a  place  of  residence  in  which  personal  honor  is  most  highl}- 
regarded.  I  have  already  had  an  affair  with  Captain  Johnstone  of  the 
arm3~,  in  which  I  seriously  wounded  that  distinguished  gentleman. 

I  also  participate  to-morrow  morning  in  a  little  entertainment 
before  daylight,  in  which  I  serve  as  second  to  my  distinguished  friend, 
Don  Miguel  Cascarilla,  who  has  a  slight  misunderstanding  to  adjust 
between  himself  and  Senor  Pasquale  Robanza.  As  I  happened  to  be 
acquainted  with  both  of  these  gentlemen  during  my  Mexican  campaign, 
the  affair  promises  to  be  very  agreeable.  These  little  matters  are  so 
pleasant,  my  dear  doctor,  when  you  happen  to  know  the  standing  of 
the  parties  concerned. 

It  is  rather  a  delicate  matter,  sir,  but  should  you  ever  happen  to 
have  the  opportunity  of  communicating  with  my  lady  friend,  Mad- 
moiselle  Bottini,  please  explain  to  her  the  circumstances  under  which  I 

left  the  town  of  E ,  with  due  consideration  for  the  honorable  manner 

in  which  I  conducted  myself. 

I  desire  also,  my  dear  sir,  that  you  should  assure  her  of  my  dis- 
tinguished consideration,  and  inform  her  that  I  am  in  hopes  of  meeting 
her  again  under  more  favorable  circumstances  in  this  magnificent  city 
of  San  Francisco. 

Again  assuring  you  of  my  devotion,  believe  me, 

Your  sincere  admirer, 

M.  M. 

"Young-  man,  if  the  old  adage  that  'consistency  is  a 
jewel '  be  correct,  Major  Merriwether  is  the  brightest  gem 
in  the  world's  galaxy  of  great  men!  To  me,  that  letter  is  the 
most  remarkable  contribution  to  epistolary  literature  that 
has  ever  been  written,  with  one  exception,  and  that  one  was 
written  by— Major  Merriwether  himself,  as  you  will  see 
later  on. 

"I  knew  that  Jerry  would  be.  delighted  to  know  that  his 
old  friend,  the  Major,  was  still  alive  and  flourishing — there 
was  nothing  in  the  letter  suggestive  of  anything  but  pros- 
perity. So,  before  leaving  for  my  quarters,  I  looked  him  up 
and  asked  him  to  accompany  me  home,  saying  that  I  wished 
to  talk  to  him  about  a  little  matter  of  business.  Having 
arrived  at  my  office,  and  the  usual  rites  of  Western  hospi- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  595 

tality  having-  been  performed,  I  informed  Jerry  that  I  had 
heard  from  the  Major. 

''  I  thoug-ht  my  worthy  friend  would  jump  clear  out  of  his 
muddy  boots  at  this  welcome  news. 

"'The  h — 1  you  have!'  he  exclaimed,  spring-ing-  to  his 
feet.  '  Whar'd  ye  hear  'bout  'im,  an'  when?' 

"  '  Well,"  I  answered,  '  through  the  most  natural  channel 
in  the  world.  That  letter  I  received  this  evening-  was  from 
the  Major  himself.  The  old  man  is  in  San  Francisco,  alive 
and  well,  and,  according-  to  his  account,  fig-hting-  a  duel  three 
times  a  day  before  meals.' 

"  'Wall,  by  ther  gre't  etarnal!  ef  thet  aint  ther  bulliest 
news  thet  I've  heerd  sence  '49!'— and  the  kind-hearted  miner 
fairly  danced  with  delig-ht. 

"  '  Tell  er  feller  all  erbout  it,  Doc.' 

"  '  Possibly  I  could  not  do  the  subject  better  justice  than 
•by  reading-  the  letter,'  I  replied. 

"I  proceeded  to  read  the  letter,  and  Jerry  was  an  en- 
thusiastic, thoug-h  noisy,  listener.  He  laug-hed,  crowed  like 
a  Shang-hai  rooster,  swore  and  turned  handspring's  all  at 
once. 

"•Gre't  snakes!  but  aint  he  er  Jim  dandy?'  he  ex- 
claimed, when  I  had  finished.  '  Ef  thet  ole  Major  aint  er 
gre't  man,  I'm  er  greaser!  W'y,  jump  my  claim,  ef  th'  ole 
feller  haint  g-ot  brains  'nuff  ter  be  pres'dent!  Did  y'u  ever 
hear  ennythin'  like  ther  way  he  hez  patched  thet  duel  up?' 

"  '  There  is  no  disputing-  the  fact  that  the  Major  has 
great  ing-enuity,'  I  replied.  'I  do  not  believe,  myself,  that 
there  is  another  man  living-  who  equals  him  in  his  own  pecu- 
liar line.  His  cleverness  and  zeal  are  certainly  worthy  of  a 
better  cause.' 

•''Thet's  all  rig-ht,  Doc;  thar's  plenty. er  men  whut's 
sandy  'nuff  ter  die  with  the'r  boots  on,  but  d — d  few  whut 
kin  run  erway  with  'em  on,  like  ole  Maje  did,  an'  still  keep 
up  conferdence  in  the'r  own  fig-htin'  qual'ties.' 

"'Perhaps  you  are  rig-ht,'  I  said,  'but,  after  all,  the 
principal  fact  established  by  the  letter  is  that  Major  Merri- 
wether  is  still  in  the  land  of  the  living-.  We  shall  always  miss 


596  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

his  genial  and  entertaining-  society,  but  our  consciences  will 
henceforth  be  relieved  of  something-  of  a  load.' 

"  '  Thet's  so,  Doc,"  said  Jerry,  'an'  whut's  better,  p'raps 
we  kin  g-it  th'  ole  man  ter  come  home,  in  ther  spring-.' 

"  'I  fear  not,  Jerry,'!  replied.  'The  old  Major  can  hardly 
have  that  degree  of  confidence  in  his  subterfug-e.  My  own 
opinion  is,  that  he  has  not  the  remotest  idea  of  how  long-  we 
waited  for  him  to  return  to  the  battle-field,  and,  despite  the 
bravado  expressed  in  his  letter,  he  is  probably  entertaining 
a  horrible  doubt  as  to  the  true  state  of  affairs.' 

"  '  I  think,  Jerry,'  I  continued,  '  that  it  would  not  be  well 
to  mention  the  fact  that  the  Major  wrote  to  me  direct — simply 
tell  the  boys  that  a  friend  of  mine  who  lives  in  San  Francisco 
met  the  Major,  and,  without  knowing-  that  I  ever  knew  him, 
casually  described  the  old  man  in  a  letter  to  me,  inci- 
dentally giving-  me  his  name.  That  story  will  seem  quite 
natural  to  our  friends,  as  they  know  the  Major's  peculiarities 
and  will  not  be  surprised  at  the  impression  he  made  upon 
my  correspondent. 

"You  see,  Jerry,  the  boys  might  not  think  the  old  man 
did  just  right  in  communicating  with  me,  instead  of  writing 
to  some  of  his  friends  who  have  known  him  longer  and  more 
intimately  than  I.  Then,  again,  should  they  believe  that  the 
old  man  feels  toward  them  as  he  expresses  himself  in  his 
letter,  they  would  be  likely  to  feel  more  remorseful  than  ever.' 

"Jerry  agreed  with  me  as  to  the  wisdom  of  not  making 
the  Major's  letter  public.  After  some  more  'hospitality,' 
the  delighted  fellow  bade  me  good  night  and  departed  on  his 
pleasant  errand  of  notifying  the  boys  that  their  old  friend, 
the  Major,  was  still  'erlive  an'  kickin',  down  in  'Frisco.' 

"The  boys  were  happy  to  learn  that  the  Major  was  still 
on  earth,  and  subjected  me  to  a  cross-fire  of  questions  the 
first  time  I  showed  myself  among  them.  They  seemed  more 
than  pleased  to  receive  assurances  of  the  old  man's  safety, 
from  the  original  source  whence  Jerry  derived  his  information. 

"  The  idea  that  the  Major  should  be  sought  out  and  in- 
vited to  return  home  in  the  spring,  was  quite  general.  I  told 
his  many  friends  that  in  my  opinion  an  effort  in  that  direction 
ought  to  be  made,  but  expressed  the  fear  that  his  new  sur- 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  597 

roundings  might  be  so  congenial  that  it  would  be  difficult  to 
induce  him  to  return  to  E . 

'"You  know,  boys,'  I  said,  jocularly,  'that  the  gallant 
old  fellow  is  fond  of  ladies'  society,  and  I  am  afraid  that 
'Frisco  holds  out  inducements  with  which  we  cannot  compete 
—unless  Bottini  can  be  induced  to  return.  Then,  too,  you 
know,  even  that  scheme  is  a  little  dubious — he  ran  away  from 
her  once.' 

"  The  humor  of  my  remarks  was  lost  upon  the  Major's 
friends.  I  had  touched  a  spot  in  their  memories  that  no 
longer  had  its  original  flavor  of  fun.  The  absence  of  the 
Major  was  a  serious  matter  to  those  kind-hearted  miners, 
who  felt  that  the  old  man  had  been  a  very  prominent  factor 
in  the  social  fabric  of  E ." 


"  The  passing-  of  Winter  is  welcome  in  every  clime,  but 
the  early  days  of  Spring  in  the  California  mountains  are 
characterized  by  such  a  terrific  downpour  of  rain  that  the 
change  is  hardly  for  the  better.  No  one  who  has  not  experi- 
enced it  can  appreciate  the  magnitude  and  persistency  of  the 
rainstorms  that  herald  the  approach  of  warm  weather  in 
that  region.  Even  the  dwellers  among-  the  mountains,  hardly 
realize  the  copiousness  of  the  rainfall.  The  inhabitants  of 
the  valleys,  however,  can  impart  some  very  interesting-  ob- 
servations upon  this  point.  One  who  yearly  sees  brooks 
swollen  into  rivers,  and  rivers  into  resistless  torrents  of 
overwhelming-,  unreasoning,  merciless  water,  is  not  likely  to 
forget  the  debt  he  owes  to  the  melting  snows  and  abundant 
rain  of  the  mountains.  The  man  who  passes  through  a 
spring-  freshet  in  the  Sacramento  Valley,  is  likely  to  forget 
everything  but  that  freshet  for  a  time.  Should  he  ever,  by 
any  possibility,  forget  the  details  of  the  affair,  he  can  readily 
furbish  up  his  memory  by  referring  to  the  scriptures — 
Noah's  flood  makes  a  very  fair  understudy  for  one  of  those 
freshets. 

''Spring  may  be  said  to  be  fairly  under  way  in  that  re- 
gion, by  February,  and  when  it  does  come,  even  if  one  is 
quite  fastidious  about  rain  and  mud,  he  is  indeed  a  fault- 
finder who  does  not  feel  well  repaid  for  the  disagreeable 


598  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

weather  that  has  gone  before.  Spring-  in  those  mountains 
is  all  'rare  days, 'and  the  mere  circumstance  of  living-,  should 
be  comfort  enoug-h  for  the  averag-e  man. 

"It  has  been  said  that  every  man  oug-ht  to  be  glad  to  be 
alive.  I  don't  know  as  this  rule  is  even  g-eneral  in  its  appli- 
cation— this  I  do  know,  however;  the  man  who  is  alive  and 
healthy  in  the  months  of  Spring-  in  the  California  Sierras 
and  has  any  complaints  to  make,  isn't  fit  to  stay  on  this 
planet.  It  would  be  useless  to  offer  him  the  earth,  it  isn't 
g-ood  enough  for  him.  He  had  best  g-o  to  Mars  and — drown 
himself  in  one  of  those  big-  canals  we  read  about. 

"As  the  weather  began  to  improve  and  the  roads  became 

'navigable,'  the  town  of  E once  more  assumed  its  wonted 

air  of  importance.  Mining  received  a  fresh  impetus,  and  'the 
hum  of  honest  industry'  was  heard  once  more.  Blithely  rat- 
tled the  ivory  chips  and  merrily  flashed  the  cards,  while  the 
clink  of  the  glasses  at  the  various  resorts  about  town,  made 
music  sweet  to  the  ear  of  the  thirsty  miner! 

"Even  my  own  profession  received  additional  encourage- 
ment, and  fees  were  as  liberal  as  they  were  plentiful.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  during  the  winter  it  was  not  necessary  to 
do  much  shooting  or  human  vivisection.  There  was  appar- 
ently an  unwritten  law  among  the  miners,  which  held  it  to 
be  unethical  to  inflict  bodily  injury  unless  the  'inflictor'  had 
the  price  of  the  surgical  treatment  or  burial  of  the  'inflictee.' 
Even  my  friend  Jerry,  practically  hibernated  during  the 
winter,  much  to  the  relief  of  the  greasers — the  special 
objects  of  his  antipathy. 

"The  revival  of  activity  in  our  town  was  attended  by 
an  influx  of  strangers — some  of  whom  were  desirable  addi- 
tions to  our  population,  but  many  being  a  decidedly  obnoxious 
element — one  that  occasionally  required  quite  radical  meas- 
ures for  its  regulation. 

"Among  the  new-comers  were  a  few  representatives  of 
that  uncertain  quantity  known  as  the  'tenderfoot.'  I  never 
knew  exactly  what  the  term  meant,  but  I  discovered  that  in 
its  general  application  it  had  about  the  same  significance  as 
the  more  civilized  term,  'dude,'  sometimes  has — it  desig- 
nated a  man  who  had  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  education, 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  599 

who  wore  a  clean  collar  and  a  'biled' shirt,  and  was  not  sup- 
posed to  know  one  end  of  a  six-shooter  from  the  other.  If  his 
vocabulary  of  oaths  was  limited,  the  verdict  of  '  tenderfoot ' 
was  one  from  which  there  was  no  appeal. 

"Next  to  the  greaser,  my  friend  Jerry  held  the  tender- 
foot most  in  contempt.  He  never  saw  one  who  had  'sand,' 
he  claimed,  until  after  he  had  been  well  trained  by  the  old- 
timers.  Then,  once  in  a  while,  the  tenderfoot  blossomed 
into  a  fighter. 

"But  there  was  one  variety  of  the  genus  tenderfoot  that 
Jerry  had  never  experimented  with — the  '  blue-breasted  ' 
breed.they  raise  down  in  Georgia. 

"Such  a  tenderfoot  happened  to  be  among  our  new  ar- 
rivals, and  as  luck  would  have  it,  it  fell  to  Jerry's  lot  to 
initiate  him  into  the  ways  of  the  camp. 

"The  interesting  ceremony  of  initiation  occurred  at  the 
Minerva,  and  after  the  usual  preliminaries,  the  honorable 
Mr.  J.  Mapleson  invited  the  tenderfoot  to  give  him  an  exhibi- 
tion of  a  'wing  dance.'  As  the  victim  was  from  the  South, 
where  it  was  easy  to  learn  that  particular  style  of  dancing, 
and  Jerry  had  him  covered  with  a  six-shooter,  he  demon- 
strated a  surprising  degree  of  talent — which,  I  presume,  was 
as  novel  to  himself  as  to  his  audience. 

"But  'wing  dancing'  is  tiresome  work,  and  the  stranger 
soon  became  weary.  Jerry  thereupon  generously  stimulated 
his  flagging  zeal,  by  shooting  as  near  his  feet  as  he  could, 
without  hitting  him — and  sometimes  a  trifle  nearer. 

"The  tenderfoot  was  a  lithe,  handsome  fellow,  and  an 
athlete — he  was  no  coward,  but  this  was  Jerry's  game,  and  so 
the  young  fellow  danced,  waited,  and — counted  the  shots. 

"The  victim  finally  stopped,  apparently  from  sheer  ex- 
haustion, and  staggered  against  the  bar. 

"Jerry  now  approached  him  with  the  pacific  intention  of 
inviting  him  to  drink,  as  was  customary,  meanwhile  replacing 
his  empty  revolver  in  his  belt. 

"Just  as  the  sturdy  miner  came  within  arm's  length  of 
his  apparently  guileless  victim,  the  young  Georgian  whipped 
out  a  bowie,  sprang  at  Jerry  like  a  panther,  and  cut  him  twice, 
and  that  seriously,  before  he  could  recover  from  his  surprise. 


600  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"Somebody  grabbed  the  young-  fellow's  knife-hand  just 
as  Jerry  reached  for  his  own  bowie!  Swinging-  about  as 
thoug-h  on  a  pivot,  the  young-  athlete  struck  the  astonished 
Jerry  a  blow  under  the  jaw  with  his  left  fist  that  would  have 
done  credit  to  a  professional  pugilist! 

"Jerry  was  a  game  man  and  a  tough  one,  but  he  was  no 
better  than  anybody  else  when  his  brain  was  benumbed — 
cerebral  concussion  is  not  conducive  to  pernicious  bodily 
activity. 

"And  so  the  hero  of  a  score  of  knife-battles  and  gun- 
fights,  went  gently  yet  firmly  to  sleep  under  the  soft  per- 
suasion of  a  tenderfoot — who  had  learned  to  use  a  knife  'way 
down  in  Georg-y,'  and  had  studied  the  art  of  boxing  under 
that  distinguished  statesman — the  Hon.  John  Morrissey, 
erstwhile  of  New  York,  and  later  of  the  Congress  of  the 
United  States ! 

"Now,  the  boys  all  liked  Jerry,  but  they  liked  the  quality 
of  bravery  itself,  better  than  men  who  personified  it.  Fair 
play  was  the  creed  of  E ,  and  the  young-  Georgian  imme- 
diately became  the  hero  of  the  hour.  The  crowd  at  once 
proceeded  to  fill  him  up,  or  at  least,  to  try  to  do  so.  But 
this  was  another  game  that  they  play  pretty  well  'down  in 
Georgy,'  and  the  result  was,  that  that  blessed  tenderfoot  laid 
out  a  number  of  the  hardest  drinkers  in  town  before  the  even- 
ing- was  over,  while  he  himself  was  not  even  kept  busy! 

"The  subsequent  popularity  of  the  young-  fellow,  was 
only  exceeded  by  the  celerity  with  which  he  used  to  skin  our 
boys  at  poker.  There  never  was  a  more  accomplished  gentle- 
man  than  he.  There  wasn't  a  man  in  town  that  could  shoot 
with  him,  and  even  Jerry  himself,  never  saw  the  day  that  he 
could  whip  out  a  knife  and  put  it  where  it  was  most  needed, 
with  more  adroitness  than  could  young  Claiborne.  He  could 
swing  a  pick  with  the  best  of  them,  too! 

"I  afterward  became  well  acquainted  with  our  new  and 
promising  citizen;  indeed,  we  were  eventually  more  than 
friendly — he  was  a  finely  educated  fellow  and  an  excellent 
conversationalist.  It  was  with  genuine  sorrow  that  I  heard 
of  his  death  in  San  Francisco  several  years  later — poor  boy! 

"  How  did  he  die? 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  601 

"Well,  my  boy,  there  never  was  a  fighter  so  good  but 
that  there  was  another  somewhere,  who  was  just  a  shade 
better.  A  shade  the  quicker  is  quick  enough,  where  pistols 
and  knives  are  concerned. 

"While  the  majority  of  the  crowd  was  endeavoring  to 
smother  the  victorious  young  stranger  with  the  red-eyed 
hospitality  of  our  town,  some  of  the  boys  carried  the  uncon- 
scious Jerry  into  an  adjoining  room  and  did  the  best  they 
knew  in  checking  the  blood  from  his  wounds.  Meanwhile, 
several  messengers  were  sent  in  hot  haste  after  me. 

"  Fortunately  for  Jerry,  I  was  at  .my  office — he  couldn't 
have  lost  much  more  blood  without  a  fatal  result. 

"  He  had  recovered  his  senses  when  I  arrived,  but  was 
still  dazed,  and  so  weak  from  the  hemorrhage  from  the  deep 
wounds  in  his  chest  and  shoulder  that  he  regarded  passing 
events  writh  very  little  interest. 

"I  carefully  dressed  his  wounds,  and  with  the  assistance 
of  several  of  his  friends  and  an  improvised  stretcher,  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  my  unfortunate  patient  home." 


"  I  would  not  allow  Jerry  to  talk  for  some  time,  and  abso- 
lutely interdicted  visitors.  At  the  end  of  about  ten  days, 
however,  he  was  practically  out  of  danger,  and  I  said  to  him 
one  morning:  'Jerry,  we  can  now  talk  a  little.  You  have 
had  a  hard  pull  of  it,  but,  thanks  to  your  magnificent  consti- 
tution and  our  mountain  air,  you  are  all  right  now/ 

"'Yes,'  he  replied,  dryly,  'an'  I  s'pose  y'u  didn't  hev 
nuthin'  ter  do  with  pullin'  me  through,  nuther — only  I  aint 
thet  kind  uv  er  pashunt,  savvy?  Purty  close  call,  wuzn't 
et.  Doc?  Come  d — d  near  goin'  up  ther  flume  thet  time, 
didn't  I? 

"  'Oh,  well,  Jerry,'  I  replied,  'I've  seen  closer  calls,  but 
that  chest  wound  came  near  doing  the  business  for  you.' 

"  '  Wuz  ther  lung  cut,  Doc  ? '  he  asked,  anxiously. 

"  'No,  the  lung  was  not  cut,  fortunately — or,  at  least,  if 
it  was,  the  injury  was  very  slight — but  what  we  term  the 
pleural  cavity  was  opened.  A  little  artery  just  beneath  one 
of  your  ribs  was  cut,  and  that  side  of  your  chest  was  full  of 
blood  by  the  time  I  reached  you.  The  clots  crowded  your 


602 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


lung-  up  pretty  well,  but  the  blood  is  now  about  all  absorbed, 
and  you're  worth  four  dead  men.  As  for  your  cut  shoulder, 
that  has  healed  as  sound  as  a  dollar.' 


"SAY,    DOC,     AINT    HE    KK    COKKKK?" 

"Jerry  looked  at  the  ceiling  thoughtfully  fora  moment, 
and  then  broke  out  in  a  hearty  laugh,  ending-  by  saying-— 
"  'Say,  Doc,  aint  he  er  corker?' 
"  '  Whom  do  you  mean,  Jerry?' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  603 

"  '  W'y,  thet  d— d  tenderfoot ! ' 

"'Oh,  I  see,'  I  replied,  'you  are  commenting-  on  the 
young-  man  who  interfered  with  your  respiration.  Yes, 
Jerry,  so  far  as  I  am  able  to  understand  the  term,  he  is  a 
"corker!"' 

"  '  Wall,  I'll  tell  ye  whut,'  replied  Jerry,  '  thet  feller  is  er 
mount'in  cat,  er  Texas  steer  an1  er  thrashin'  machine,  all 
rolled  inter  one!  He's  er  rustler  frum  'way  up  ther  stream! 
He's  er  bad  man  frum  Bitter  Creek,  he  is,  an'  I'm  er  bloomin' 
g-oslin'I  "Tenderfoot!"  Holy  smoke!  If  thet  feller's  er 
tenderfoot,  I  don't  never  wanter  meet  enny  tuff  men  frum 
his  dig-g-in's.  Ha!  ha!  ha!  Whut  ther  h — 1  did  he  hit  me 
with,  enny  how,  ther  spittoon?' 

"'No,  Jerry,'  I  replied,  facetiously,  'he  just  tapped  you 
with  his  delicate  little  left  hand — dig-its  clenched — that's  all.' 

"'All?'  he  exclaimed,  'All?  Holy  catamounts!  whut  d' 
ye  want?  W'y,  thet  feller  don't  hev  ter  carry  no  weppins,  no 
more'n  er  rattlesnake!  All?  Wall, by  G — d,  ye  mout  jest  ez 
wall  be  hit  with  er  pick  handle!' 

"  '  Yes,  Jerry,'  I  replied,  'there  is  a  little  knack  about  it 
— you  see  the  young-  man  knows  the  g-ame.' 

"'Wall,  et's  er  d— d  g-ood  g-ame,'  replied  my  patient, 
'an'  I  reckon  I'd  better  trade  my  bowie  an'  g-un  fer  er  few 
less'ns.' 

"  Young-  Claiborne  was  one  of  the  first  callers  on  my  dis- 
tinguished patient.  He  was  received  with  as  much  enthus- 
iasm as  Jerry  had  left  in  him,  and  a  compact  of  friendship 
was  formed,  then  and  there,  that  was  as  sincere  as  it  was 
enduring-. 

"Poor  old  Jerry!  Lead  and  steel  were  not  destined  to 
end  his  interesting  career.  He  received  more  wounds  during- 
his  eventful  life  than  any  man  I  ever  knew.  How  peculiar 
are  the  operations  of  destiny !  He  finally  made  his  pile, 
and,  several  years  later,  started  back  to  his  home  somewhere 
in  the  States;  exactly  where  he  came  from,  no  one  ever  knew 
—nor  will  anyone  ever  know.  The  steamer  in  which  he  took 
passag-e,  was  wrecked  in  a  collision  off  the  Mexican  coast  and 
sunk  with  all  on  board." — 


604  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

"A  few  days  after  Jerry  had  recovered  sufficiently  to  be 
able  to  get  about  a  little,  he  came  into  my  office  one  morning 
in  a  state  of  great  excitement. 

"'Say,  Doc,'  he  exclaimed,  'I've  got  some  more  news  uv 
th'ole  Major!' 

"  'Ah,  is  he  coming-  home?'  I  asked. 

"'No,'  replied  Jerry,  disconsolately,  'an'  I  don't  reckon 
he  ever  will.  Er  fren'  uv  Charley  Mason's,  whut  lives  in 
Placerville,  wuz  down  ter  Frisco  er  while  erg-o,  an'  he  run 
ercross  ole  Maje  down  thar,  in  er  horspital,  an'  ther  head 
mog-ul  Doc  down  thar,  said  ez  how  ther  pore  ole  man  wuz  on 
his  las'  leg's.  Now,  us  boys  hez  bin  talkin'  ther  thing-  over, 
an'  we  thort  some  uv  us  orter  go  down  thar  an'  do  whut  we 
kin  fer  th'  ole  feller.  D'ye  think  I  kin  sit  er  boss  er  ride  in 
thet  d — d  ole  stag-e  yit?' 

"'Why,  Jerry!'  I  said,  'are  you  crazy?  Of  course  you 
can't.  It  will  be  some  weeks  yet  before  you  can  do  any 
traveling-.' 

"Jerry's  face  fell.  'Say,  Doc,'  he  said,  slowly,  after  a  mo- 
ment's deliberation,  'y'u  know  I'm  on  ther  squar',  don't  ye?' 

"  '  Yes,  Jerry,  I  do,'  I  replied. 

'"Wall,  then,  I  want  y'u  ter  do  the  squar'  thing-  by  er 
squar'  man,  will  ye  do  et?' 

"  '  Why,  Jerry,  you  know  I'll  do  almost  anything-  for  you 
— what  is  it?' 

"Wall,  Doc,  I  want  y'u  ter  take  er  perfeshnal  trip  down 
ter  'Frisco,  an'  look  arter  ther  Major.  I  haint  g-ot  much  use 
fer  them  horspitals  nohow,  an'  I  haint  got  no  use  er  tall  fer 
enny  Docs  but  y'u.  Thet's  'bout  ther  way  all  uv  us  boys 
feel,  an'  we'll  see  yer  through,  an'  thar  aint  no  splittin'  ha'rs 
on  ye'r  price,  nuther.  I  kin  speak  fer  the  rest  uv  ther  boys, 
coz  we  hev  talked  et  all  over.  Now,  don't  say  no,  Doc,  ef  yore 
my  fren'!' 

"  '  Well,  Jerry,'  I  replied,  '  this  is  rather  short  notice,  but 
I  feel  under  obligations  both  to  the  boys  and  the  poor  old 
Major,  and  I  will  gladly  go.  There  is  a  new  doctor  down  at 
Placerville,  who  will  doubtless  be  glad  to  come  up  if  anything 
serious  happens,  and  as  I  have  no  bad  cases  on  hand,  now 
that  you  are  all  right,  I'll  start  this  afternoon.' 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  605 

"Bully  fer  y'u,  Doc!'  cried  Jerry.  4  Thar's  only  one  uv 
yore  kind,  ennyhow,  an'  ther  boys  won't  f erg-it  et,  y'u  jes'bet! 
I'll  hev  er  good  fat  bag"  er  dust  fer  ye,  'fore  ye  can  say  Jack 
Roberson!' 

"  'Ah,'  I  thought,  as  Jerry  sped  away  as  fast  as  his  still 
scant}'  breathing-  space  and  weakened  heart  would  allow  him, 
'  I  had  to  come  to  a  mining  camp  to  learn  what  true  friendship 
is.  Brave  hearts,  true  hearts,  under  shaggy  breasts!  The 
tenderness  of  woman,  the  desperate,  savage  courage  of  the 
lion,  and  the  souls  of  heroes,  within  mud-bespattered  miners' 
jackets! 

"  'A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that,'  sang  dear  old  Bobby  Burns. 
—Where  were  there  ever  rougher  or  more  precious  diamonds 
than  in  that  rude  mining  camp?' 

"  It  was  not  long  before  Jerry  returned  with  dust  enough 
for  several  journeys.  The  boys,  he  said,  were  highly  de- 
lighted with  my  prospective  errand  of  mercy.  Charley 
Mason  had  volunteered  to  go  with  me  as  far  as  Placerville 
and  bring  my  horse  back.  There  was  a  stage  bound  for  the 
lower  country  from  that  place  early  in  the  morning,  and  the 
boys  had  rightly  concluded  that  I  would  prefer  to  take  it, 
rather  than  travel  the  entire  distance  on  horseback,  through 
a  very  dangerous  region  infested  by  banditti  of  all  grades  of 
villainy. 

"  Charley  and  I  started  away  immediately  after  dinner,  a 
large  number  of  the  boys  being  on  hand  to  see  us  off.  Every 
man  among  them,  had  some  kind  greeting  to  be  given  the 
Major  when  I  found  him.  I  was  admonished  to  spare  no 
pains  or  expense  in  making  him  comfortable,  and  was  assured 
that  they  should  expect  me  to  bring  the  old  man  back  with 
me  if  I  succeeded  in  getting  him  well  again. 

"Jerry  called  me  aside  as  I  was  about  to  mount  my 
mustang  and  said — 

"  'I  want  y'u  ter  tell  th'  ole  Major  thet  I'm  still  his  bes' 
fren'.  I  don't  much  expect  he'll  ever  git  up  agin,  frum  whut 
Charley's  fren'  said,  but,  ef  he  does,  don't  leave  ther  pore  ole 
feller  down  thar  in  'Frisco.  Bring  'im  home  with  ye,  ef  ye 
hev  ter  tie  'im  in  er  cart  an'  lug  'im  all  ther  way.  Ef  he 
should  pass  in  his  chips,  see  thet  he's  done  hansum  by — y'u 


606  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

know,  Doc,'  he  said,  choking-  up,  'whut  I  mean.     Thar  aint 
nuthin'  too  good  fer  ther  Major,  dead  er  'live.' ' 


"Arriving-  at  Placerville,  we  put  up  for  the  night  at  a 
hotel  that  had  but  one  redeeming-  feature — it  was  a  trifle 
better  than  our  own  Miner's  Rest.  As  I  was  to  beg-in  a  tire- 
some journey  early  in  the  morning — for  stage  riding-  at  best, 
is  not  very  comfortable,  and  in  those  days  it  was  something 
to  inspire  one  with  dread — I  retired,  leaving-  my  friend  Mason 
to  do  the  honors  and  exchange  greetings  with  the  citizens  of 
the  town,  who  were  always  more  than  hospitable  to  their 
neighbors  of  E . 

"I  cautioned  Charley,  as  I  bade  him  good-night,  not  to 
drink  too  much  or  get  into  any  arguments  during  the  evening, 
as  I  desired  to  have  him  on  hand  with  a  whole  skin  and  a  clear 
head  to  bid  me  good-bye  in  the  morning.  He  laughed,  and 
said,  'All  right,  Doc,  d'ye  want  me  ter  leave  my  six-shooter 
with  y'u?' 

"'No,'  I  replied,  'my  own  is  plenty  for  me,  and  you 
wouldn't  feel  natural  nor  look  dressed  up  without  it,  so  I 
think  you  had  better  wear  it.' 

"  '  Fer  ets  moral  effeck,  and  coz  et  ergrees  with  my  com- 
plexshun,  eh,  Doc?'  and  the  tough  little  chap  left  me,  grin- 
ning so  widely  that  his  ears  were  in  imminent  danger  of 
engulfment. 

"When  I  arose  the  next  morning,  I  found  that  my  com- 
panion was  all  ready  to  start  for  home  immediately  after  the 
departure  of  the  stage.  My  own  little  mustang  was  saddled 
and  haltered,  ready  for  the  homeward  journey.  It  was 
evident  that  Charley  had  withstood  the  effects  of  Placerville 
whisky  quite  successfully.  Beyond  a  suspicious  redness 
about  the  eyes — that  may  have  been  due  to  loss  of  sleep — 
he  was  as  fresh  as  a  mountain  breeze. 

"  With  many  kind  wishes  for  the  success  of  my  journey, 
my  friend  bade  me  good-bye,  and  I  was  soon  fairly  on  my  way 
to  'Frisco." 


u  My  journey  was  without  incident,  save  for  the  tiresome 
changes  of  stages  and  the  discomforts  of  the  various  places 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  607 

at  which  I  was  obliged  to  stop  on  the  way.  I  failed  to  make 
stag'e  connections  011  several  occasions,  and  as  a  consequence, 
it  was  five  days  before  I  arrived  at  my  destination — tired, 
dusty  and  ill-tempered. 

"But  the  comforts  of  civilization,  although  so  new  to 
me  that  I  felt  ill  at  ease  among-  them,  were  none  the  less 
beneficial,  and  I  soon  found  myself  an  improvement  upon  the 
original  traveler  who  had  left  E a  few  days  before. 

"San  Francisco  had,  even  at  that  time,  several  excellent 
hotels  and  many  fairly  good  ones.  I  put  up  at  the  old  Inter- 
national— a  really  comfortable  house  run  on  the  European 
plan.  Even  this  establishment,  although  in  existence  less 
than  ten  years,  was  already  designated  as  'old' — San  Fran- 
cisco was  moving  very  rapidly  in  those  days.  The  wealth  of 
the  mines  found  its  way  in  a  steady  stream  to  the  California 
metropolis,  and  there  was  no  lack  of  hotel  enterprise  to  offer 
attractions  for  the  miners'  golden  ounces. 

"I  did  not  undertake  to  see  the  city,  attractive  as  was  the 
prospect  to  one  who  had  not  known  what  civilization  really 
was  for  several  years.  The  object  of  my  visit  was  both 
philanthropic  and  professional,  and  I  lost  no  time  in  endeav- 
oring to  fulfill  it. 

"Delaying  just  long  enough  for  a  bath  and  a  change  of 
linen,  I  set  out  on  my  search  for  the  Major. 

"As  there  was  but  one  public  hospital  in  the  city — aside 
from  the  government  marine — I  had  no  difficulty  in  localizing 
my  field  of  investigation. 

"The  hospital  \vas  an  unpretentious  affair,  which  sug- 
gested that  while  San  Francisco  enterprise  was  active  enough 
in  other  directions,  philanthropy  in  the  care  of  the  sick  was 
at  that  time  a  secondary  consideration — a  criticism  that 
could  not  justly  be  passed  at  the  present  time,  for  San 
Francisco  hospitals  will  to-day  compare  most  favorably  with 
those  of  other  cities  of  its  size,  and  its  physicians  are  certain!}' 
equal  to  those  of  any  other  city  in  the  Union. 

"  Much  to  my  gratification,  I  found  that  the  house  physi- 
cian, to  whom  I  introduced  myself,  was  a  very  intelligent  and 
agreeable  man.  He  was  a  graduate  of  Edinburgh,  and  as 
bright  and  energetic  a  young  Scotchman  as  one  could  wish  to 


608  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

meet.  He  had  been  attracted  to  California  some  years  before, 
by  the  wonderful  tales  he  had  heard  of  our  El  Dorado,  and, 
like  many  other  men,  had  found  himself  decidedly  out  of 
his  element.  Mining-  was  not  his  forte,  and  he  could  not 
adapt  himself  to  his  environment  in  the  mining1  town  where 
he  had  endeavored  to  practice.  Finally  becoming-  discour- 
aged, he  had  returned  to  the  point  from  which  he  started  into 
the  mines — San  Francisco. 

"He  was  better  appreciated  in  the  city,  and  had  suc- 
ceeded in  getting-  the  hospital  position  several  years  before 
I  met  him.  He  had  also  built  up  a  most  lucrative  private 
practice— so  lucrative  and  exacting-,  he  said,  that  were  it  not 
for  the  sentiment  involved,  he  would  long-  since  have  given  up 
his  hospital  work. 

"Doctor  MacRae  was  most  courteous  to  me,  but  much 
to  my  disappointment,  said  that  no  patient  by  the  name  of 
Merriwether  had  ever  been  under  his  care. 

"I  was  taken  somewhat  aback  at  first — San  Francisco 
was,  even  at  that  time,  a  large  place,  and  the  prospect  of  ran- 
sacking it  in  search  of  a  sick  man  was  neither  enticing  nor  in 
the  least  encouraging. 

"  '  But,'  said  the  doctor,  with  his  decidedly  Scotch  accent, 
'  these  California  people  are  verra  like  to  gie  some  ither  name 
than  their  ain;  I  should  nae  be  surprised  if  yir  Major  hae 
been  here  under  some  ither  name.  Or,  mayhap,  the  one  he 
hae  gie'n  us  is  the  richt  an'  the  name  ye  ken  is  fauss.' 

"  'Well,  I  declare!'  I  exclaimed,  'how  stupid  of  me  not  to 
have  thought  of  that!' 

"'Oh,  weel,'  said  the  doctor,  'a  mon  dinna  always  re- 
member sic  little  points  when  he's  in  the  mines.  Everybody 
is  sae  busy  there,  they  dinna  have  the  time  to  bother  aboot 
fouk's  names.  Describe  yir  friend,  an'  let  us  see  if  we  hae 
had  him  here.' 

"I  proceeded  to  give  a  circumstantial  description  of  the 
Major — a  very  easy  matter,  as  you  might  suppose  from  your 
knowledge  of  his  peculiar  and  striking  characteristics. 

"Doctor  MacRae  listened  attentively,  and  as  I  went  on 
with  my  description  his  face  grew  grave. — 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  609 

"'Ah!  my  dear  doctor,'  he  said,  'I'm  afraid  I  ken  yir 
mon.  Yir  too  late,  sir!  Yir  puir  friend  deed  last  night,  an', 
as  I  waur  thinkin',  he  wass  here  under  anither  name.' 

"  As  he  spoke,  the  doctor  rang1  the  bell  at  his  elbow.  An 
attendant  entered  and  the  doctor  said  to  him,  'Henry,  ask 
Mrs.  Johnson  the  name  of  the  mon  who  deed  last  nig-ht.' 

"  The  attendant  departed,  and  soon  returned  with  a  slip 
of  paper. — 

"  '  Mrs.  Johnson  wrote  his  name  on  this  paper,  sir.' 

"The  doctor  took  the  paper  and  read,  'Obadiah  C. 
Tompkins. ' 

"'I  thocht  the  name  wass  Tompkins,'  said  the  doctor, 
'but  I  waur  nae  sure.  This  maun  be  yir  Major,  I  think 
doctor.' 

"'Please,  sir,'  said  the  attendant,  who  stood  patiently 
waiting-,  '  Mrs.  Johnson  handed  me  this  letter,  which  the 
patient  g-ave  her  to  keep  for  him  just  before  he  died.' 

"Doctor  MacRae  took  the  letter,  and  turning-  to  me,  said, 
'Ah!  there's  nae  doot  noo;  this  letter  is  for  yirsel!' 

"And  so  it  proved — the  missive  was  plainly  addressed  to 
me.  It  was  with  considerable  emotion  that  I  took  it,  and 
after  g-lancing-  at  the  superscription  put  it  into  my  pocket. 

"  *  With  yoiir  permission,  Doctor  MacRae,  I  will  read  this 
letter  to  you  later — unless  it  contains  something-  that  requires 
secrecy,  which  I  doubt.  Major  Merriwether  was  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  characters  that  our  American  civilization 
has  ever  produced,  and  he  may  interest  you  as  a  psycho- 
logical study.' 

"'Weel,'  said  my  confr&re,  'I'm  richt  sorry  that  he 
wudna  talk  to  me  aboot  himsel'.  Th'auld  mon  waur  as  dumb 
as  an  oyster  an'  we  could  get  verra  leetle  out  o'  him.' 

"'It  would  have  been  well  worth  your  while  to  study 
him,'  I  replied.— 

"  ' Of  what  did  he  die  ? '  I  asked. 

"'Oh,  weel,  doctor,'  replied  MacRae,  'it  wass  th'  auld 
story.  Th'  auld  mon  ate  too  leetle  an'  drank  too  much.  His 
liver  an'  kidneys  waur  worn  oot  lang  since,  but  they  did 
verra  weel  by  him  till  aboot  a  month  ago,  when  they  struck 
work  altogither.  He  wass  that  changed  ye  wad  scarcely 


610  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

ha'  known  him  when  he   deed.     Wad  ye  like  to  see  nim, 
doctor?' 

"  'Yes,'  I  replied,  'I  was  quite  fond  of  the  old  man,  and 
I  desire  to  make  suitable  arrangements  for  his  burial.  I 
really  represent  a  number  of  his  fellow  townsmen,  who  were 


"HE   WOULD    NEVER    FIGHT   AGAIN." 

desirous  of  having-  all  possible  attention  shown  the  Major- 
living1  or  dead.' 

"Doctor  MacRae  himself  led  the  way  to  a  little  out- 
building-, which,  he  informed  me,  had  been  utilized  as  a  dead- 
house  in  lieu  of  a  special  structure  for  the  purpose. 

"There,  upon  a  rude  pine  table,  lay  the  Major.  His 
face  was  bloated,  as  is  often  the  case  in  persons  dead  of  renal 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  611 

disease,  but  there  was  no  mistaking-  that  gigantic  though 
attenuated  frame. 

"The  poor  old  Major  had  fought  and  run  away,  but  he 
had  reversed  the  old  adage— he  would  never  fight  again. 

"Hooked  upon  the  swollen  features  of  the  poor  old  man 
for  a  brief  moment,  then,  gently  replacing-  the  sheet  that 
the  kind-hearted  nurse  had  thrown  over  him — hospitals,  you 
know,  are  not  usually  characterized  by  such  delicate  atten- 
tion to  the  dead — I  followed  Doctor  MacRae  back  to  his  office, 
where  he  invited  me  to  sit  a  while  and  tell  him  something  of 
the  dead  man. 

"I  gave  the  doctor  a  brief  synopsis  of  the  Major's  history, 
dwelling  particularly  upon  the  circumstances  that  impelled 
him  to  leave  E so  suddenly. 

"  Doctor  MacRae  was  evidently  a  close  student  of  human 
nature — he  listened  with  apparently  the  liveliest  interest,  and 
agreed  with  me  that  the  Major  was  a  character  as  unique  as 
he  was  interesting1. 

"Having-  finished  my  recital  of  the  Major's  history,  I 
recalled  the  letter  that  had  been  given  me  by  the  hospital 
attendant. 

"kl  had  almost  forgotten  the  old  man's  letter,'  I  re- 
marked.-— 'With  your  permission,  doctor,  I  will  now  read  it, 
and  unless  there  is  some  special  reason  for  not  doing-  so, 
I  will  read  it  to  you.  I  suspect  that  it  will  prove  quite 
interesting.' 

"Taking-  the  letter  from  my  pocket,  I  opened  it — with 
some  emotion,  you  may  be  sure — and  as  soon  as  I  had  deter- 
mined the  nature  of  its  contents,  read  it  to  the  doctor. 

"Here  is  an  exact  copy  of  the  letter — the  original  has 
become  so  time-worn  that  it  will  not  bear  handling.  I  will 
read  it  to  you,  just  as  I  read  it  to  MacRae: 

MY  DKAR  DOCTOR  WEYMOUTH  : 

You  have  probably,  ere  this,  forgotten  that  such  an  individual  as 
myself  ever  existed.  It  is,  therefore,  not  because  of  any  conceited  notion 
that  you  are  interested  in  the  fate  of  your  humble  servant,  that  I  am 
impelled  to  write  you  at  this  time. 

This  denial  of  conceit  upon  my  part,  ma3r  appear  somewhat 
inconsistent  with  the  role  in  which  you  have  had  the  opportunity  of 
studying-  me,  but  I  assure  you,  sir,  that  the  fictitious  vanity  and 


612  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

superlative  bumptiousness  under  which  I  have  for  so  many  years 
masqueraded,  are  now  things  of  the  past.  Such  impressions  as  these 
apparent  qualities  in  my  make-up  may  have  made  upon  you,  will,  I 
hope,  be  evanescent. 

I  trust  that  you  will  remember,  not  my  foibles,  but  such  little 
praiseworthy  traits  of  character,  as  may  have  appeared  to  you  to 
remain,  after  making  due  allowance  for  those  peculiarities  with  which 
I  was  so  long  and  so  closely  identified. 

You  are  a  man  of  education  and  refinement,  and  these  qualities, 
in  connection  with  your  deep  and  philosophical  knowledge  of  weak 
human  nature,  will,  I  am  sure,  enable  you  to  understand  the  grotesque, 
and  to  you,  no  doubt,  laughable  peculiarities  of  the  gentleman  whom  I 
will  designate  for  the  sake  of  perspicuity,  the  late  Major  Merriwether. 
I  am  also  convinced  that  you  detected  an  underlying  stratum  of  gentility 
and  at  least  a  modest  degree  of  educational  refinement,  in  that  worthy 
gentleman.  I  do  not  believe,  however,  that  even  your  keen  power  of 
observation  and  your  remarkable  insight  into  human  character,  ever 
enabled  you  to  penetrate  the  true  inwardness  of  that  remarkable  indi- 
vidual. 

Y  #ould  be  presumptuous  in  me,  sir,  to  say  that  I  always  ap- 
preciated you  as  a  kindred  spirit,  and  yet,  taking  into  consideration 
my  normal  organization — which  was  by  no  means  grotesque  after  the 
shell  in  which  I  had  lived  so  long  had  been  pierced — it  may  not  be  too 
much  for  me  to  say  that  our  similarity  of  tastes,  and  what  I  believe  to 
have  been  our  equal  educational  advantages,  should  have  made  us  at 
least  congenial  spirits.  You  did  not  possess,  nor,  were  you  other  than 
a  scientific  physician,  could  you  possibly  realize, that  peculiar  psycho- 
logical constitution,  which  constituted  the  difference  between  us  and 
which  impelled  me  to  assume  the  absurd  intellectual  disguise  in  which 
I  have  for  so  many  years  masqueraded.  With  this  letter  as  a  key,  you 
can  very  readily  understand  the  situation  and  appreciate  my  reasons 
for  writing  to  you  what  is,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  everything  that 
is  important  in  my  history.  I  write  it  as  an  act  of  justice,  not  only  to 
myself  but  to  you,  for  I  have  always  felt  that  you  were  at  least  kindly 
disposed  toward  me,  even  though  your  friendliness  was  inspired  to  a 
certain  extent  by  scientific  curiosity,  but  more,  by  that  offensive  entity 
born  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness,  which  fools  term  "sympathy." 

The  serio-comic  play,  known  as  life,  in  which  I  have  enacted  such 
a  farcical  role,  is  fast  drawing  to  a  close.  You,  my  dear  sir,  of  all 
men,  should  appreciate  my  reasons,  both  organic  and  psychic,  for  that 
excessive  indulgence  in  spirituous  liquors  which  has  characterized  my 
career.  Keenly  realizing  the  humiliating  features  of  my  mental  make- 
up, I  have  endeavored  to  blunt  with  liquor,  the  keen  edge  that  was  ori- 
ginally ground  upon  my  feelings  by  an  innate  sense  of  dignity  and  the 
grind-stone  of  education.  Through  the  medium  of  liquor  alone,  have  I 
been  able  to  even  approximate  consistency  in  the  ridiculous  role  that 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  613 

I  assumed,  many  years  before  I  had  the  pleasure  of  making  your 
acquaintance.  You  appreciate,  sir,  the  readiness  with  which  the  finer 
sensibilities  may  be  blunted,  and  the  very  refinements  of  braggadocio 
brought  to  the  surface  by  indulgence  in  liquor.  Fortunately  for  me,  I 
have  been  for  the  most  part,  situated  in  an  environment  in  which  indul- 
gence in  rhodomontade  and  bluster  was  productive  of  no  other  results 
than  kindly  toleration  of  what  was  really  the  result  of  a  physical  in- 
firmity— though  perhaps  not  recognized  as  such  by  those  around  me: 

The  late  Major  Merriwether — of  whom  I  am  the  only  legal  rep- 
resentative— was  born  in  the  State  of  New  Jersey.  In  justice  to  his 
birthplace,  I  will  state  that  in  my  opinion  he  was  by  no  means  a  pro- 
duct characteristic  of  the  soil.  He  was  sui  generis.  Quite  early  in  life 
he  discovered  that  there  was  a  lack  of  harmony  between  his  physical 
and  mental  organizations,  a  giant  in  stature,  and  a  woman  in  spirit,  he 
was  exposed  from  his  early  youth,  to  circumstances  that  were  by  no 
means  conducive  to  his  comfort. 

With  the  strength  of  an  athlete  and  the  soul  of  a  mouse,  the  Major 
early  realized  that  he  was  handicapped  in  the  struggle  of  existence. 
There  seemed  but  one  way  to  counterbalance  his  unfortunate  infirmity 
—  cowardice  —  and  that  was  to  take  advantage  of  his  overgrown  stature 
by  associating  with  it  an  air  of  bravado  and  an  assumption  of  courage, 
which  would  quite  likely  convert  his  life  into  a  more  or  less  successful 
game  of  bluff. 

A  close  student  of  the  classics,  an  ardent  reader  of  modern  fiction, 
he  was  not  long  in  hitting  upon  a  plan  which  he  believed  to  be  not  only 
justifiable,  but  thoroughly  compatible  with  the  highest  principles  of 
self-defense  in  the  battle  of  life.  The  result  was  the  Major  Merriwether 
of  your  acquaintance  —  a  fire-eating  Southerner,  who  was  never  nearer 
Mason  and  Dixon's  line  than  his  native  State.  The  nearest  approach 
that  he  ever  made  to  the  South  was  crossing  Southern  waters  during 
his  ocean  voyage  to  California  via  the  Isthmus. 

Exactly  why  the  Major  assumed  the  role  of  a  Southerner,  would 
be  difficult  to  explain,  for,  to  his  mind — although  cowardly  he  was  by 
no  means  unappreciative  of  comedy — the  Southern  fire-eater  was  as 
amusing  as  he  was  hard  to  understand. 

The  Major,  in  reality,  did  have  some  military  experience,  which 

consisted,  as  was  rumored  in  the  town  of  E ,  of  a  short  service  as 

drum-major  in  a  regiment  of  militia.  His  entrance  upon  a  military  life 
was  due  to  certain  peculiar  views  that  he  had  formulated,  regarding 
the  quality  of  bravery  which  is  at  least  supposed  to  exist  in  the  average 
man.  He  had  very  carefully  studied  historical  accounts  of  celebrated 
warriors  and  great  battles,  and  had  concluded  that  there  were  two  ele- 
ments which  impelled  the  soldier  to  acts  of  bravery  upon  the  battle-field. 
One  of  these  was  what  may  be  termed  "mass  courage,"  which  per- 
vades large  bodies  of  men  serving  a  common  cause,  and  the  other — 
which  appeared  to  be  more  important — was  the  garb  of  the  soldier. 


614  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

The  Major  reasoned  that  the  soldier,  like  the  clergyman,  often 
had  more  regard  for  his  cloth  than  for  his  occupation,  as  regards  im- 
pulse to  duty.  He  also  believed  that  martial  music  was  one  of  the 
essential  factors  in  inspiring  bravery  in  men's  hearts.  Reasoning 
from  his  own  standpoint,  he  believed  that  all  normally  constituted 
men  were  cowards.  Those  who  were  unlike  himself,  were  either 
brave  because  of  some  peculiarity  of  organization  or  some  extraneous 
circumstance  or  other,  over  which  they  might,  or  might  not,  have  vol- 
itional control.  He  did  not  believe,  and  in  this,  I,  his  humble  represent- 
ative, agree,  that  the  average  man  is  a  hero.  Major  Merri  wether  had 
discovered  many  elements  of  cowardice  in  himself,  but  the  all-pervading, 
all-controlling  feature  of  his  own  cowardice  was  his  dread  of  being  con- 
sidered a  coward.  This  fear  of  being  thought  afraid,  was,  he  thought, 
characteristic  of  the  average  man. 

After  these  views  became  crystallized  in  the  Major's  mind,  he  not 
only  put  his  theories  into  practice  by  enlisting  in  the  service  of  his 
native  state  and  assuming  the  most  pretentious  position  that  military 
service  afforded,  but  he  adopted  a  systematic  course  of  self-training, 
based  upon  his  peculiar  views  and  his  theoretical  knowledge  of  the  fire- 
eater.  The  product  was  that  extraordinary  individual,  the  Major  Mer- 
ri wether  whom  you  knew,  and  probably  pitied — how  justly,  you  are  now 
beginning  to  understand. 

I  will  do  the  Major  the  justice  of  stating  that  he  made  a  most 
strenuous  endeavor  to  superadd  to  his  artificial  qualities  of  bravery,  a 
practical  application  of  the  principles  of  heroism  demonstrated  by  other 
men,  whose  acts  were  more  consistent  with  what  the  world  calls  cour- 
age, although  associated  with  less  of  bumptious  pretension.  He  enlisted 
in  the  United  States  Army  during  the  war  with  Mexico,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  putting  himself  to  the  crucial  test  of  exposure  to  shot  and  shell 
in  the  defense  of  his  country  ;  but  alas  !  that  ambition  which  impelled 
him  to  assume  so  prominent  a  position  as  that  of  drum-major,  was  the 
source  of  his  downfall. 

Although  theoretically  a  non-combatant,  the  first  impression  that 
the  Major  derived  from  the  more  or  less  distant  crash  of  the  enemy's 
guns,  was  the  conspicuousness  of  his  stature,  his  prominent  position  on 
parade,  and  his  uniform.  A  casual  facetious  remark  made  by  one  of 
his  comrades,  relative  to  the  superb  target  that  he  made,  effectually 
extinguished  the  already  dimly-glowing  fire  of  his  military  ambition 
and  made  him  shed  his  uniform.  In  the  vernacular  of  the  kind-hearted 
people  among  whom  he  afterwards  sojourned,  he  then  ''struck  out  for 
tall  timber!" 

The  Major  finally  drifted  into  the  mining  region  where  you  had 
the  misfortune  of  making  his  acquaintance.  Here  he  alternated  between 
the  sublime  and  the  ridiculous,  or,  perhaps,  more  properly  speaking,  he 
enacted  the  double  and  simultaneous  role  of  court  fool  and  town  drunk- 
ard— an  individual  great  in  pretense  and  weak  in  spirit,  who  was 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  615 

busily  engaged  in  drowning  his  finer  sensibilities  by  traveling  as  fast 
a  pace  as  possible  toward  that  bourne  from  which  no  drunkard  ere 
returns— besotted  and  benighted  stupidity. 

The  Major  was  dimly  conscious  at  times,  that  he  was  not  only  toler- 
ated by  his  fellow  townsmen  chiefly  because  the  antics  of  the  clown  are 
always  acceptable  to  the  common  herd,  but  on  several  of  the  occasions 
on  which  he  made  a  monumental  ass  of  himself,  he  was  more  than 
suspicious  that  he  had  been  the  victim  of  a  practical  joke.  To  be  frank 
with  you,  he  was  under  that  impression  throughout  the  trying  ordeal  of 
that  little  transaction,  the  attempt  at  a  duel  which  resulted  in  his  hasty 

departure  from  E .  He  suspected  it  so  strongly  that  he  carried  out 

his  own  part  of  the  program,  albeit  in  terror  and  trepidation,  until  he 
saw  the  actual  loading  of  the  pistols.  The  result  you  are  quite  as 
familiar  with  as  I  am  myself. 

I  have  not  attempted,  my  dear  doctor,  to  go  into  minute  details  in 
the  foregoing  biography  of  the  late  Major  Merriwether.  I  have  myself 
been  in  happier  days  something  of  a.  dilettante  in  psychology.  I  have  at 
least  a  smattering  of  medical  lore,  and  I  am  sure  that  what  I  have 
alread}1  written  is  sufficient  to  enable  a  man  of  your  keen  perception,  to 
thorough!}-  appreciate  the  true  character  of  the  unfortunate  Major. 

Doctor  Weymouth — I,  the  representative  of  your  friend,  the  Major, 
am  lying  upon  my  death-bed  in  a  public  hospital  in  the  City  of  San 
Francisco.  My  attempts  to  benumb  my  keener  nervous  sensibilities  and 
anaesthetize  my  psychic  pain,  have  resulted  in  total  annihilation  of  the 
structural  integrit}'  of  my  liver  and  kidneys.  Nature  endowed  me  with 
a  magnificent  constitution,  a  frame  of  iron,  and  I  may  say  in  all 
modesty,  a  superior  intellect,  but  the  good  dame  was  by  no  means  gen- 
erous to  me — she  omitted  those  qualities  of  mind  and  heart,  which  would 
have  made  me  capable  of  fighting  the  battle  of  life  upon  an  even  footing 
with  other  men.  I  have  taken  a  sad  revenge;  I  have  ruined  two  of  the 
perfect  structures  with  which  she  endowed  me — my  kidneys  and  liver. 

Now,  my  dear  doctor ;  there  may  be  that  in  what  I  have  said,  which 
will  cause  you  something  of  a  pang  of  remorse  for  the  part  which  you 
yourself  have  played  in  my  little  corned}' of  life.  Do  not,  however,  allow 
yourself  one  moment's  recrimination  or  mental  distress  on  my  account. 
I  have  not  been  altogether  unhappy,  for  the  indulgence  of  my  frailties 
and  foibles  by  my  fellowmen,  has  been  at  times  a  source  of  unalloyed 
pleasure.  Why,  my  dear  sir,  there  have  been  times  when  I  actually 
believed  I  was  the  hero  I  pretended  to  be,  and,  after  all,  as  Epictetus 
said,  it  is  our  opinion  of  ourselves  from  which  we  must  derive  comfort 
or  sorrow,  and  when  that  opinion  is  apparently  supported  by  the  con- 
duct and  opinions  of  those  by  whom  we  are  surrounded,  then  indeed  is 
our  happiness  complete. 

The  rhodomontade  of  Don  Quixote  has  been  immortalized  by  Cer- 
vantes—  perchance  you,  irry  dear  friend,  with  your  undoubted  ability, 
may  utilize  a  more  remarkable  fool  than  was  that  erratic  knight,  and 


616  OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 

embalm  the  history  of  the  late  Major  Merriwether  in  fiction,  or  in  a 
scientific  disquisition  upon  the  peculiar  phase  of  psychic  aberration 
which  he  represented,  and  in  which,  I  believe,  he  stood  alone. 

The  prompter  has  rung,  and  the  curtain  must  soon  fall.  It  only 
remains  for  me,  my  dear  friend,  to  extend  to  you  the  affectionate  fare- 
well greeting-  of  that  blood-thirsty,  fire-eating,  blustering,  bragging, 
carousing,  suffering  coward — Major  Merriwether. 

Very  sincerely  and  admiringly  yours, 

OBADIAH  C.   TOMPKINS. 

P.  S. — This  letter  will  probably  be  forwarded  to  you  after  my 
death.  Pray  do  not  give  yourself  any  concern  about  the  possible  exist- 
ence of  friends  or  relatives  who  might  be  interested  in  my  fate.  Of  the 

former,  there  are  only  the  few  of  my  old  associates  in  E who  may 

remember  me  kindly — of  the  latter,  I  have  none. 

O.   C.   T. 

"  '  What  do  you  think  of  the  Major's  analysis  of  himself, 
doctor?'  I  asked,  when  I  had  finished  reading-  the  letter. 

"'It  is  the  most  remarkable  character  study  I  hae  iver 
heard,'  replied  Doctor  MacRae,  with  a  decided  display  of 
emotion.  'I  hae  missed  th'  opportunity  o'  mae  life.  It's  an 
ower  great  pity  he  didna  talk  aboot  himselV 

"After  making-  all  the  necessary  arrangements  for  the 
burial  of  my  dead  friend,  I  bade  my  confrere  g-ood-day  and 
returned  to  my  hotel. 

"As  I  was  parting-  with  the  doctor,  he  g-ave  me  a  most 
cordial  invitation  to  spend  a  few  days  as  his  g-uest  before 
leaving-  San  Francisco,  an  invitation  that  I  gladly  accepted. 
I  have  never  enjoyed  anything-  more  thoroug-hly  than  I  did 
my  visit  with  Doctor  MacRae,  and  the  pleasant  days  that  I 
spent  with  him  were  the  beg-inning-  of  a  life-long-  friendship. 
He  retired,  some  years  ag-o,  and  returned  to  his  native  land, 
where  he  is  now  living-  the  ideal  life  of  a  wealthy  country 
g-eritleman." 


"There  was  but  little  more  that  friendship  could  do  for 
the  Major,  but  that  little  was  done  in  a  style  that  even  Jerry 
himself  would  have  pronounced  'hansum.' 

"  '  Obadiah  C.  Tompkins '  was  an  unknown  quantity  to 
the  boys  of  E .  I  had  come  to  San  Francisco  to  find  their 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH.  617 

friend,  Major  Merriwether,  and  it  was  for  him  that  I  per- 
formed the  last  rites. 

"As  he  had  said  in  his  pathetic  autobiography,  the  old 
man  had  no  friends  or  relatives  who  would  ever  know  or 
care,  where  or  under  what  name  he  was  buried,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  those  honest  miners  who  had  known  and  loved  him 
during  his  comedy  of  rhodomontade  at  E .  Their  senti- 
ments alone,  therefore,  were  my  guide  in  the  disposal  of  all 
that  was  earthly  of  the  gallant  Major. 

"  The  rapid  growth  of  the  city  of  San  Francisco  has  long 
since  obliterated  all  traces  of  the  spot  where  I  laid  the  Major 
to  rest,  but  for  many  years,  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  the 
numerous  mementoes  that  marked  the  last  resting  places  of 
the  sleepers  in  Yerba  Buena  cemetery,  was  a  pretentious 
slab  on  which  was  inscribed: — 

'  ERECTED 


To  the  Memory  of 

MAJOR  MERRIWETHER, 

Soldier  of  Fortune  and  Slave  of  Destiny, 


By  His  Fellow  Townsmen  of 
E—     — . 

Honor  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise — 
Act  well  your  part ;  there  all  the  honor  lies. 


"Well,  my  boy,  now  that  we  have  played  'taps'  for  the 
Major,  I  am  reminded  that  we  must  bid  each  other  good-bye 
to-morrow.  I  regret  exceedingly  that  our  pleasant  evenings 
together  are  over,  but  I  am  glad  to  know  that  your  labors  as 
a  student  are  ended,  and  that  you  are  now  ready  to  enter  the 
battle  of  life  in  earnest.  The  hour  is  late,  and  as  you  have 
promised  to  call  to-morrow,  I  will  reserve  certain  things  that 
I  wish  to  say  to  you  until  then.  I  suppose  I  ought  to  say 


618 


OVER  THE  HOOKAH. 


'Good  night,  doctor,'  but  I  haven't  got  used  to  your  title  yet, 
so  I  will  say  as  of  old — 

"Good  nig-ht,  my  boy." 


And  now,  farewell — farewell,  O  pipe,  farewell,  O  bowl — 

Farewell,  old  friend,  and  thy  warm  gxxxl  cheer, 

Thy  feast  of  reason  and  thy  kindly  flow  of  soul — 

It  well  may  be  for  many  a  year. 

True  hast  thou  been — I  love  thee  passing-  well — 

'Tis  hard  enow  to  break  thy  all  too  pleasant  spell, 

And  yet  I  must — and  so,  farewell  and  fare  thee  well ! 

THE  END. 


A     000103619 


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